Imps and Goodnight Kisses
by Anzu Fan
Summary: Pre-series. Snarfs weave themselves into legends whether they mean to or not. Children ask questions that don't have easy answers. And sometimes those you love go away, leaving without so much as a goodnight kiss.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Ah, no. I wish. But no.

Snarf needs some loving. I've got another few ideas for 'Lean on Me,' but those need more work. And this story…I dunno, I wanted to tell it. Canon's going to shoot it down, I'm sure, but I've gotten to the point where I don't care much anymore.

Not going by 'Butterfly Blues' because the Crew of Omens said that short – while rather cute – is absolutely not canon. So while I don't know how long Snarf has lived in the palace, I know he wasn't a nanny in the newer TC. I fancy the idea that he kind of moseyed his way into everyone's hearts.

Warnings:

This. Is. Not. Fluffy. There are sweet moments, but it is a surprisingly dark story. Snarf "talks" – as in, Lion-O understands him – and it is more from his point of view. But don't let that put you off.

OC or FC, whatever you want to call them. There's one or two in here.

Blood and such. Yes, even a Snarf story can have some misery and blood.

Mentions of prejudice. And it's just overall kind of a sad story. Snarf is not the only focus, but he's bound to it.

Also my ideas on why Lion-O seems to have a special pity for the lizards. While I like the idea that he's just that kind, it seems like there could have been another reason. For these the fic was born. Not going to be nearly so long as the others I'm working on, and it's in the backseat. So don't worry too much about it taking over.

Also, kittens were adorable last episode. Filler? Perhaps. But it was cute filler.

* * *

**Imps and Goodnight Kisses**

* * *

_"Pre-series. Snarfs weave themselves into legends whether they mean to or not. Children ask questions that don't have easy answers. And sometimes those you love go away, leaving without so much as a goodnight kiss."_

* * *

There were once many legends about Snarfs. They are rare now, but they used to be plentiful, common as flowers. But they and their legends have faded with time and parchment, even though the elderly can often drudge up bits of stories about tiny red creatures that wove themselves into the fabric of adventures. But they have fallen from their perch of heroes and valiant adventures as the centuries rolled.

Some people revered them as tiny bringers of good luck, a symbol of blessing to a household. Most were inclined to swat them with a broom to get them out of the pantry when they burrowed into the house looking for food. It was believed that Snarfs could not commit evil deeds, though that was quite questionable, particularly to those who found themselves shooing the creatures out of their stock rooms. Few seemed to realize that they understood many languages and were nearly as intelligent as the speaking races.

"It's ugly."

…_More _intelligent than select members of the speaking races.

He didn't move. The ground hurt him, but if he pretended to be dead maybe the voice would leave.

"Think we killed it?"

"Nah. It twitched." The boredom scared him most. For it was when these sorts were bored that they sought entertainment, and entertainment to them was often found in the abuse of bizarre animals. He'd seen it happen from the safety of Mama's side one rainy day in their nest in the alley, seeing several youths tease a tethered mount with hay and thorny sticks. They would hold out the hay to the hungry beast, and when it extended its neck to take the food the kids would smack its hindquarters, making it jump. Then they'd do it again, and the poor thing was so hungry that it kept doing it in hopes that they'd relent and give it something to eat.

They never did.

It was really sick. He didn't know how he'd ever be a victim of such treatment himself.

Another rock hit his haunch and he squealed; already throbbing and bleeding, his thigh seemed to explode with a greater pulse.

"Toldja. Eeh, look at his toes. I think we broke one."

"C'mon, this is sick." The other voice was marginally more welcome, but the even disinterest meant that aid could not be expected if the abuse started again. "It's just a baby. Leave it alone, the swine rats'll get it."

"Yeah, that's _so_ much more humane. At least if we club it, it goes quick. But naw, you want it to get eaten while it's still kicking?"

"Better than sticking around for an hour while you guys throw rocks at it."

He meowed, plaintively. The fur on his face was sticky and clumping together, and his mouth cracked as the dried blood parted. "Think it's some kind of rodent? Because Mom would kill me if I let a rodent live. It'll try to get into the bread on the shelves. Swine rats ate up ten loaves last year."

"I dunno." Beyond puffy eyelids, he managed to peek at his tormentors – greasy adolescents and slightly younger than that, all in shades of sallow yellow and burnt brown. Unfriendly, tawny eyes considered him. "We need to get home anyway. The guards are making their rounds in a little bit before heading back to the palace for a report. Wouldn't look good for them to find it here."

"They still looking for that criminal? The one that killed old man Atrox?"

"Yeah. Don't think we'd get in trouble for this, but it wouldn't be good to test that theory. Be best if we got rid of it and hid it."

He meowed again. If the boys had understood Snarf-language, they would heard a plea for mercy. "I've got an idea. We don't have to kill it ourselves, and we'll get it out of here way faster…"

He did not understand how the torture of creatures such as himself could possibly bring happiness to anyone. But the boys sniggered as the plan was relayed, and one boy passed him to enter the alleyway. The snapping of wood from a rotted crate made him try to lift his head; were they going to beat him to death? He squealed, struggling to roll onto his stomach. Perhaps it would make them laugh to see him try to crawl away. But his leg would not bear him, and he felt little bits of grit and rock getting into his scratches, so he lay still, burning like salty ash.

The boy knelt beside him, and took out a length of string. Holding the long, thin piece of wood parallel with his aching tail, the youth was surprisingly careful about binding the stick to him.

He didn't know what to make of that. The wood was rough and scratched against the welts along his back, but perhaps the cat was trying to make a splint for him? Confusion made him yowl, and the cat shushed him, hurrying. "Okay. I need a handkerchief or something."

The other boys shoved each other and muttered until a scrap of cloth was produced, a dirty bandana. He pierced it with the wood, sliding it almost up to the cord. A firm paw then gripped his tail. And then, he heard something clacking, loud and rough.

He smelled smoke, and after a couple seconds, his skin was unpleasantly hot. Turning his head in disbelief, he screamed; lit in the sparks, the boy had a twisted grin on his face as he watched the cloth catch fire and begin to burn the wood. The fur on the tip of his tail smelled bad as it caught fire, hot and heavy and sick. But even though he forced himself to his feet and pulled with all the strength he could, the paw held his tail until the sparks had well and truly set.

Then the cat let go and he was off, bumbling and fumbling over the ground, screeching and caterwauling, loud enough that he blocked out the laughter of the other boys. He whipped his tail and sprinted, knocking it against the brick alley walls to try to dislodge the flaming cloth. All for naught; his fur was on fire, and panic flooded through him. He rolled, hoping to stop the burning.

It didn't work. So he simply ran, squalling for help and hoping the boys were not behind him. Buildings whipped by, masses of wall and cloth and wooden stalls. And then people, jumping away from him and dragging their cubs away by one paw, hollering when he darted past their ankles. Pain crackled over his skin, partly from his scratches and partly from the smoking of his flesh. He squealed again, before suddenly being terrified by a distorted reflection of himself.

It was in a warped piece of metal attached to a cat's leg – a piece of armor. But the sight scared him, and he flooded past the cat even as he tried to bring his spear down in shock. His claws scrabbled over the path, running rampant as he whipped and whirled, avoiding more and more cats as they swarmed around him, trying to shoo him away.

If he hadn't been so petrified, he might have noticed that he was in a massive courtyard, and that he'd run through the arch of the main entrance. He might also have noticed the yells of the guards for somebody to, "Get back from the wild animal!"

It was the sight of a still figure that made him slow up. Looking back, he was never sure why he started to balk, heading toward them for aid. An overpowering sense of trust hit him; this person was kind. They smelled of honey and kitten.

He bawled – wouldn't they help? Didn't any of these twits speak decent Snarf? How much more plainly could he scream, "Help me!"?

The figure on the cobblestone path stared at him with big eyes, and the Snarf mewled, feeling his skin roast as the person took in the flames and their nose wrinkled at the smell of burnt hair. And then tiny arms were suddenly tight around him, carrying him in a hurry. With a fresh wave of panic, he bit the arm and clawed, hissing. The cub jerked, and bright red blood sprang to the thin scratches, but he didn't let go.

He caught sight of a body of water – a canal, as he later realized – and suddenly understood. He had the presence to feel abashed as the cub jumped into the water, still holding him tight.

Pain. Water rushing into his wounds and over his burns was horrible, but it brought such soothing relief immediately afterwards that he released his breath in a sigh, bubbles flooding from his mouth. He relaxed utterly, too tired to even bother about squirming for the surface. And they were going up again anyway, and suddenly his head was heavy, neck limp as he was hauled from the water.

The smell of wet cat came to him, along with diluted blood, and he heard panting. "You're all torn up."

He was placed gently on his side, on what felt like a cloak. It kept the dirt out of his fur, and he felt it cooling him, sodden as it was. Opening one eye – it was not too puffy just yet – he saw his rescuer properly for the first time.

He was perhaps four summers old and sopping wet, and his red mane was messy against his head, fur clinging to his skin. Big, blue eyes met his, and he blinked, letting his gaze drop to the cub's arms.

The scratches leered red on the creamy fur, and he winced; one ran from the cub's elbow to the middle of his forearm. "Sn-Snaaarf," he whimpered. It was a weak apology, but it was all he could manage.

The cub looked at the scratch and simply huddled his arm beside his stomach. "It's okay. You were scared. How'd you catch fire?"

"Sna-Snarf-Snarf." Finally, somebody who spoke decent Snarf. The cub bristled, lower lip setting.

"What! That…that's bad! They were bad people! "

"Your Highness! Get away from it!"

"Hey!" The cub was pulled away, yowling when one of the cats dressed in those shiny, gleaming pieces of armor touched his injured arm. The guard released him, and he dropped back to the ground. A good thing, too; one of the spears had been over him, and in spite of his injuries, he had tried to get up, to roll away. He hadn't survived being bludgeoned and burnt to get skewered, had he? But the cub sat right in front of him, putting his arms open wide, as if to block the blade. "He was just scared! Some bad people tied a fire to him, and he's hurt! See?"

Only two guards were present, and they exchanged a glance. "Your Highness, that thing attacked you. We could not call ourselves honorable if we allowed it to live."

"It's just scratches! He was scared, he didn't know any better! Besides, he said he was sorry!"

A faint smacking sound drew their attention to the cub's arm. A single drop of blood had fallen from his arm, pink with water. He scowled. "It doesn't even hurt! Don't kill him."

_Yeah. Don't kill me, _he couldn't help but think. The cub was warm, and he huddled by his leg. Obstinately, the cub positioned himself so he was curled around the tiny body without quite touching him. He smelled of bread and honey and fruit, and he wondered for a moment what this cub had been doing in this vast courtyard all alone.

"Is there a problem?" A new voice, and this one was old, cultured. The guards stood up straighter but the cub brightened.

"Jaga! Tell them not to kill this thingy." 'Thingy?' Well, that was pretty silly; didn't he know a Snarf when he saw one? Then again, mentally railing against the four-year-old who'd saved him from burning to death seemed ungrateful, so he didn't protest. "He was set on fire, and I took him in the canal to put it out. He didn't mean to scratch me, he was just scared. He said he was sorry."

"Head Cleric, I apologize. The creature ran past me and got to the prince before I could stop it. I accept full responsibility for this. I understand if the king wishes to relieve me of my post." The guard looked blank, and his words sounded rehearsed. "Permit me to be rid of the beast, if you would."

"No! Jaga, it wasn't the thingy's fault! Don't kill him!" Jaga stooped, and he was overcome by the smell of old cat and paper. He examined the cuts in the red fur, the missing, charred fur on his tail. Then he looked at the cub's arms, and settled to look the cub over. "I'm okay, Jaga. But he's hurt real bad. Can you fix him?"

Seeing that cub would not cease squirming until the 'Thingy' was tended to, Jaga seemed to sigh without breath and began to examine the Snarf. He tried not to flinch when the old man poked a particularly tender spot and checked his toe. Oh, ow, that thing was really hurting now. He could move it just a little though; was it broken or just sore?

"I don't know, Prince Lion-O. I can try to help him, but living things aren't like toys. They can't be mended so easily." All the same, Jaga picked up the cloak and cradled him in it carefully.

"Sir Jaga-!"

"Head Cleric!"

He gave the guards a quiet look that plainly said, "Shush. Now." Both closed their mouths, and he felt Jaga settle him carefully in the crook of one elbow, and saw him extend one paw toward the cub – 'Prince Lion-O,' was it? – who took it trustingly. "I will tend to these two, and I will explain what happened to his Majesty. Return to your posts."

He listened as their armor clinked, head beginning to pound as his vision went. Perhaps he'd lost too much blood, and that was why he couldn't seem to think very…well…

* * *

_Mama yowled for them all to come back, but he didn't listen. She was just in the alleyway, and his three fellow kits – two sisters and a brother – had hurried back to her, pawing and meowing for milk. But their teeth had come in and they were weaning, so she refused to allow them near her belly, instead directing them to the soft bread and meat she'd scrounged from the local butcher. He perked up from his spot amidst the jars and crates on the cart, and meowed that he'd be along in a minute. The cat had long ago headed into a bar, and the catallo at the front of the wagon was lazily munching on straw. Fascinated by the new smells and textures, he burrowed into one of the blankets to figure out what it was covering._

_The cart lurched, and he squealed, falling into one of the crates and the grain inside. Sputtering, he tried to climb back out, but the crate was big and the cloth was in his face as he tried to find purchase on the itchy crop._

_The catallo nickered in protest when the driver pulled away and cut at its sides with the whip. Mama screeched and yowled, but her calls died away in the rattle of the wheels, as did the mewls of his siblings. And he cowered in the crate until an hour later, when the driver began pulling out his wares and cursed loudly upon finding a baby Snarf in the grain._

_He escaped by clawing the meaty hands and sprinting for his life. But he was lost, and alone, and the smells confused his nose until he encountered the boys. Then he just hurt._

000

Whatever he was lying on was soft and smelled of cotton. He didn't dare to move at first, too afraid to induce that horrible pain again. But eventually he dared to twitch his tail. It stung a bit, but the rasp of bandage on cloth reassured him that he was not dead and his tail was not bare to the air.

"…And the Mountain Berries turned gray today, see? I didn't get into the bushes though, so I didn't stick my finger, just like you said." He heard the shuffling of a burlap bag.

"Yes, I see. That means they're ripe. Did you get enough to make jam with? Because they make good jam, and I told you I'd help you make some if you got enough."

"Uh huh. I got two bags. We can both make a jar. And I found a pretty rock, it's blue and sparkly."

He opened his eyes. They felt sticky, as if something had been put on them to cool them and crusted over when it dried. Ew. He opened his mouth and tried clearing his tongue of the taste of…dry tongue, frankly. He meowed, glancing around for the source of the voices.

In front of him was a bed covered in a blue blanket, and on the end of this bed were seated two cats; the old one who smelled funny, Jaga, and the little boy. The boy's feet dangled above the ground, and white bandages flashed along his arms as he held out various objects to the jaguar, chattering happily about his finds. But both looked toward him when he mewled, and the cub hopped off the edge of the bed. Jaga followed more slowly, kneeling beside him. "Hi. You feeling better?"

Rather than answer, he smacked his lips again, yawning once. "He's thirsty, Jaga. Can I give him the milk right now?"

"That would be best. I don't want to give him anything solid just yet." Lion-O got up and ran to the other side of the room. There was a little desk sitting there, and on this desk rested what looked like clay pitchers and bowls, and perhaps the remains of biscuits. Lion-O trotted back over, holding one of the bowls, and Jaga took it steadily from his little paws and set it before the Snarf.

His stomach growled as he caught a whiff of milk and saw the liquid glimmer temptingly. He tried to climb off the cushion he'd been laying on, but it took a little maneuvering from Jaga to get him to the ground, and that was with hissing and pained yowls. Lion-O's big blue eyes were soft, sad.

"Poor thingy. Jaga says you'll heal in a couple weeks." He glanced up at the cub.

"Snarf-Snarf. Snar-Snarf. Snarf." In Snarf language that meant, obviously, "Look, thank you for the help. But please stop calling me 'Thingy.' I'm a Snarf."

"Oh. Your name is Snarf?"

"Snarf, Sna-Snarf." "No, I am _a_ Snarf. It's my species. Just like you're a cat. I don't have a name; Mama hadn't picked mine out yet." To tell the truth, she actually had basically decided on what name she would give him – Osbert. He cringed inwardly. No, that was not a good name. At all(1).

All of a sudden the realization that his Mama and fellow kits had no idea where he was – nor he them – hit him and his stomach churned, appetite fading. He nosed at the milk, seeing his reflection in it. It looked miserable and scruffy, and bandages crisscrossed over his ears. "What's the matter?"

Lion-O hesitantly reached out and tried to pat his head. He stiffened and backed up, and Lion-O jerked his fingers back. "Easy! My burns hurt really bad. I was just thinking about my Mama and brother and sisters. I…I don't know where they are." Warily, he watched Lion-O's frightened face melt into sympathy greater than he'd ever seen in a cat's face. Telling a strange cat this was not smart, but then, he was the only one who seemed to speak Snarf-language.

"Oh no. Jaga, can we find his mommy? He says he doesn't know where his family is." Jaga gazed at the cub with a long, perusing stare.

"You can understand him?" Lion-O looked puzzled.

"Yeah. Can't you?"

"Not a bit. He just sounds like he's meowing. What does it sound like to you?"

Lion-O nudged the bowl of milk, and he reluctantly lowered his head to start lapping at the surface. His appetite returned quickly at the sweet coolness, and he slurped the liquid into his empty belly. "It sounds like he's saying 'Snarf' over and over, but…it means different words each time."

"Interesting. A Snarf." Jaga got up and he just ignored him, continuing to lap up the milk. Lion-O stood up, following Jaga to the bed. The old cat sat down and reached behind him to pick up a book. There seemed to be several thin tomes on the bed behind him, and Lion-O clambered onto the bed beside him.

"Have you ever heard of a Snarf, Jaga?" As if he'd done it a million times, the cub maneuvered himself so he was sitting in Jaga's lap and leaning on his front so the jaguar could continue thumbing through the book if he wound his arms around the boy. It reminded Snarf of when his mama would nudge all of them closer to her side when it got chilly outside, and sighed from the sudden homesickness.

"Once or twice. That's why I brought these books. They have lists of legendary animals, along with normal ones. He might be listed in either; Snarfs have been in many stories." He finished the milk, running his tongue around the rim of his mouth. "Let's see…Serai, sirens…Snarfs. Here."

"Serai are bird people, right? They live on the third moon," Lion-O said dreamily before he looked at the Snarf entry. "Wow, it looks like him."

He tottered over toward them, planting himself on his haunches. Lion-O took the book and held it so he could see. Aside from the fact that the creature in the picture was full grown and appeared to have golden, shimmery fur along its back, it did indeed look like an artistically enhanced Snarf, complete with a curling, mischievous grin. "According to legend, Snarfs are very intelligent and understand any language. It's just their bad luck that they can't speak in any language but their own, and almost nobody bipedal can understand it."

Huh. Weird. He tried not to think of Mama and the kits; they had to be panicking now. He casually glanced around the room, wondering if there might be some way of exiting at a later date. Not that he wasn't grateful, but he didn't plan on sticking around. He'd had enough of cats in the few hours he'd spent with them for a lifetime, and one sweet kid didn't make matters any better. And he had to find Mama.

"Why can I understand him then?" Lion-O buried his fingers in Jaga's beard, stroking the white, smooth hair gently. Jaga absently patted the tuft of red mane, and the Snarf couldn't help but wonder if the cub was Jaga's kit in spite of the jaguar's age. They certainly seemed very close.

"I think the answer's right there. It's a rhyme." Jaga pointed at the page, and Lion-O squinted.

"I wanna try to read it. Can I?" With a nod, the old cat let Lion-O touch the page and followed his finger as he slowly spoke. He stuttered and frowned, but after a minute or two – and Jaga's incredibly patient hints and coaxing – he had the rhyme and proudly said it all again, enunciating carefully.

"_Loyal and true, small and weak,_

_Snarfs are of courage and habit meek;_

_But only the noble, the pure and young,_

_Can understand words from a Snarfish tongue._

_In destinies grand where hope is small,_

_When kingdoms rise and peoples fall,_

_A Snarf and a friend never shall part,_

_For the imp of adventure is the stoutest of heart."_

"Very good, Lion-O. You're learning your letters very well." Jaga paused, and tickled the cub's stomach. He cackled and Jaga laughed, old and worn like a favorite blanket. He tilted his head, trying to make sense of the rhyme, even as Lion-O tried and failed to escape. "Your tickle fighting abilities are lacking, though."

Squashing the cub in a hug, Jaga looked at the Snarf. "So, Lion-O, did you understand all that?"

Cheeks pink and body squirming, Lion-O paused breathlessly. "No. It sounds like Snarfs are little guys who do lots of adventuring stuff. That's cool."

"Indeed. And it sounds like children and very gentle, loving hearts understand Snarf language." Jaga shifted so they were sitting on the ground beside the Snarf, and Lion-O hesitantly reached out to him again. A little reluctant, he padded forward, letting the fingers touch his face. They were incredibly gentle, and those huge blue eyes were happy. Jaga looked through the book a little more, reading the entries carefully. "How interesting…"

"What should we call you?" He blinked, ears flickering.

"I don't know. I don't have a name." Lion-O chewed his lip and Jaga let him sit right in front of the Snarf, settling his chin in his paws as he lay on his stomach.

"Can we call you 'Snarf?' Because I've never seen another one, and I think it's a good name."

A Snarf named Snarf. How very unoriginal. He nearly said so, but when he thought about it, these cats seemed to be in the same boat. After all, a lion called 'Lion-O?' And a jaguar called 'Jaga?' Clearly name originality was lacking with the bipedal felines. Not that Osbert was preferable.

"Sure. But remember, I want to try to find my litter and Mama. I don't know that I'll stay for long." Lion-O's face seemed a little sad but it brightened again.

"Okay. He says we can call him Snarf, but he might leave soon to try to find his family. Can we help him, Jaga?" Jaga eyed the newly christened Snarf and he felt oddly as though the old man was looking through him. He wasn't, but somehow he got the idea that it would be nearly impossible to trick this old geezer in any way.

"Perhaps. He should remain here for a couple weeks so he can get stronger. Then we'll see about finding his family."

Snarf averted his gaze and tried to ignore the guilty squirm in his belly. He had no intention of staying that long. So putting up with the goofy name for a while would be tolerable.

* * *

Funny thing about plans turning out the way one intends them to; they don't.

Snarf was grateful, really. Jaga was a nice old geezer, and the kid was cute. He was never hungry; Lion-O always saw to it that he got milk and even little, tender bits of meat after Jaga deemed him able to handle them. His bed was warm, the cushion was clean, and his bandages were switched out every day.

But it was weird in the palace. Besides, that king dude didn't want him around.

Perhaps he ought not to have peed in the corner of the northern corridor. But honestly, he'd been raised in an alleyway; what did the guy want? He was a five-month old Snarf, relatively young and completely un-housebroken. Smart for his age, but completely wild. It bothered him to be scolded, and it bothered him even more when Lion-O got scolded for what _he'd _done. Something about, "Snarf is your responsibility while he's here." Which made sense, except for the fact that Snarf had just as much intelligence as the cub, and knew now, after one chastisement, that piddling indoors was a no-no.

"I don't know why Jaga took care of it. Once it's well, it's out the door."

Jaga had been seated in the fancy chair beside the king's while Lion-O stood ramrod straight in front of the king. The lonely flicker of pain across the cub's face went mostly unnoticed. "Your Highness, it may not be that simple. Snarfs are not like common pets. Apparently their intellect is immense, and they form bonds with people they befriend that cannot be broken. He may end up staying, if your Majesty would permit it. According to lore, Snarfs come to those of destiny, guided by fate and strange circumstances."

The king eyed him skeptically and Snarf felt very small. There was no chance of that happening – the king didn't want him around, and Snarf vowed to himself that he would never form such a bond with a cat of all things. The last thing he needed was some emotional dependency on such strange creatures. And adventures were dangerous things.

He hadn't dared to say anything, even though he was sure the king wouldn't understand him; he sure didn't seem to understand his son.

It was weird. Snarf had expected for Jaga to be Lion-O's sire – he didn't know the first thing about cat breeds, and Lion-O could have been a mixture – but to his surprise, the old cat wasn't related to Lion-O in the slightest. He was the leader of some fancy group that guarded the crown and ran really fast or something. But when Lion-O had been before the king who actually _was _his sire, he seemed to clam up and do very little other than nod or say, "Yes Father." There was something shielded, hidden. It was vaguely depressing.

A far cry from the plucky, chattering cub he was around Jaga and Snarf. Snarf didn't know what he thought of it, so he didn't. After all, his sire trotted off after Mama had the kittens as some Snarfs were wont to do, so he wasn't one to judge. But the massiveness of the king had petrified him; he'd never seen such a big cat, and it was hard to believe that tiny little Lion-O would ever be that size.

Then again, maybe he wouldn't. He was smaller than the other cubs he saw running around, mostly nobles' sons and daughters, so perhaps he would always be small in stature. And they tended to ignore him, which seemed kind of stupid. Apparently he was a very important person, the heir to the throne. So ignoring him and making him play alone could really come back to bite those brats in the tail.

It _did_ perturb him to discover that Lion-O had no mother. That was not normal. According to Mama, cats stayed with their mothers for years and years – twenty sometimes – as compared to the single year Snarfs remained. He dared to ask Lion-O about her once, and he only said, "Dad said she had to go to heaven when I was born." He sat quietly on his bed and stared at the toy he'd been showing Snarf, some form of stuffed bear creature called 'Doofle.' "I think…I think she had to go because of me. Tygra said something to me once, and…"

Snarf had not been able to respond. The cub had looked so suddenly guilty – something very deep and sad in his eyes made Snarf feel a little like he was drowning – that he meowed in disapproval. "Tygra says she was pretty," Lion-O said finally. "I wish I could've seen her."

Tygra. The brother. He was about seven years old, a very handsome boy. Everybody really seemed to like him for his intelligence, confidence and wry wit. Snarf had little opinion one way or the other about him. He didn't kick Snarf when he saw him and he didn't say anything to Snarf. Once he'd meowed at him, "Could you please tell me where exactly I can find something to sharpen my claws on that won't make anybody mad if it gets shredded? I tried that on a curtain and it made a maid scream at me."

Tygra had stared at him and then told Lion-O as he entered, "I think Snarf is hungry or something." So apparently he didn't have the same stuff Lion-O had that made him able to understand. That struck him as strange, for Tygra was not very old. But he had little patience for stories or anything he couldn't see with his own two eyes. Yet he never mistreated Snarf, and he did not seem to be cruel, so initially he had no dislike for the cub.

Admittedly, Tygra was not terribly nice to Lion-O. When he could be bothered to spend time around his younger brother, he always seemed to grow impatient and exasperated very quickly. So after a few days Snarf wasn't so sure he liked him much. There was something cold and superior about Tygra, and while he also felt the capacity for strength and decency from him, it was heavily skewed by this dark feeling of envy and derision and even resentment. Sort of a like comfortable nest, only with jagged bits of cold rock everywhere, needling his sides. Tygra wasn't bad, but he most certainly did not have the same kind of 'something' that Lion-O did. Lion-O tried to follow his brother – he admired him as only little siblings could, just a tad short of hero-worship – but he could never seem to keep up in their games. And Tygra had little interest in letting him.

Snarf wanted to leave. Every day he casually stretched himself and tried to see if he could walk properly. He was eating solid food again, and his scratches and bruises had nearly vanished in a week. And so, feeling a little bad for it, he began to plot his escape.

He didn't belong in the palace. He was a scruffy, crude Snarf, and he belonged with his Mama and brother and sisters. A fear of cats had rooted into his heart because of the boys, and to be stuck around them all the time – particularly cats who gave him looks as if they'd like to kick him out sooner than feed him – was nearly torture. And this was a fancy place, one he didn't fit into.

Lion-O was a very sweet kid. He talked nonstop, but considering he was the only cat who talked to Snarf, that was better than being ignored entirely. Jaga didn't speak to him very much because he would not be able to understand the response. It struck him as strange that Jaga of all people could not understand Snarfish tongue, but regardless, Lion-O was the only conversation he had. He was living proof that not all cats were cruel and spiteful.

But he still wanted to find Mama. Lion-O would understand; after all, he had no Mama. He too would have traveled as far as he needed in order to find her, if she dwelt on Third Earth. But for reasons Snarf could not explain, he was too ashamed to actually tell Lion-O when he was leaving. Perhaps he simply felt that if he tried to tell the cub goodbye…he wouldn't be able to.

So really, all that commenced was basically Snarf's fault if he was honest about it.

* * *

Often Lion-O brought him outside to play and show him around. During that week Snarf discovered many things about the palace and the gardens especially. Jaga accompanied them when he could find time, and Lion-O seemed to love it. It was especially comfortable outside that day, and after much pleading on Lion-O's part – he could beg like a pro, and Snarf had come to realize that Jaga was wrapped entirely around Lion-O's finger though he tried to appear aloof – Jaga agreed to take them around to the gardens to help Lion-O gather the last of the Mountain Berries from the winding bushes before they began to fall off and rot.

"See, Snarf? When the berries turn gray, they're ripe and good. But when they're bright red and look sweet, they're really not. Not to cats anyway. Try one." Lion-O gave him one of the bigger gray berries and he opened his mouth to taste it, humoring the cub. It was sweet, and brought to mind stormy rainclouds and clean water. Or perhaps cold, clear air. "They're called Mountain Berries because they look gray like mountains when they're best."

Lion-O continued gathering them in the little basket he'd brought, focusing on his task with that quiet intent that came to some children. Snarf picked some of the lower ones, tossing them into the basket as he worked his way under the smooth, cool leaves. The shade felt good as he crept over the thorny branches to pluck more berries. Jaga lingered beside Lion-O, watching the barbs and Lion-O's little fingers. "Tygra doesn't like Mountain Berries. He thinks they taste too sweet."

"Watch your paws-" Jaga began, but a little late; Lion-O jerked his fingers back and stuck one in his mouth, sucking on it. "There, what did I say? Let me see it."

Snarf had glanced back nervously upon hearing a yelp. Lion-O had pricked his finger on a thorn, but other than a grimace he didn't seem to be in much pain. Relieved, Snarf slunk under another branch and stopped. He'd encountered the wall, as the vines and bushes of the garden grew up to the smooth expanse. He sighed and nudged it, resenting the wall that kept him penned.

The sound of the canal drew his attention, and he trotted out from under the branches to linger along the water's edge, lowering his head to take a drink. His tongue made little ripples, and his eyes followed them. What was he going to do? He couldn't rely on cats to help him find Mama, but there would be no way to get out the gates without a guard. And the walls were so high and thick…

He watched the ripples fade, lifting his gaze from the water to the end of the canal where it exited the palace grounds through a barred opening in the wall. The bars looked black, blocking the way to the rest of the surrounding area where the water was cleaned and given to the people. Servants came every morning to draw water and have it cleaned for palace use.

The metal was strong, and an adult cat would never be able to squeeze between the squares of the bars.

Snarf crept along the banks, making sure Lion-O and Jaga weren't watching as he clambered into the gap in the wall where the bars were installed. His tail began to switch with excitement.

An adult cat would never fit…but a _Snarf_ would have ample room to squeeze out.

"Head cleric?" Lion-O and Jaga both looked up, and Snarf felt his little heart pounding at the sight of two guards coming across the grass toward them, following a dark cat with a hard face that was what Snarf remembered was called a 'captain.' He hurriedly rushed back to the bushes, hiding in the boughs as if he'd been there all along. "Our forces have more news on the Atrox case."

Jaga sighed. "Lion-O, accompany these cats inside. I need to speak to the captain alone." Lion-O's face fell, but at the affectionate nudge Jaga gave him, the cub obediently began following the men.

"Coming, Snarf?" Snarf shook his head, glancing at the bush and cocking his leg. "Oh. Okay. When you finish your business?" Snarf nodded, meowing once as he situated himself. Lion-O walked away between the two guards, still holding his basket and looking back at Jaga.

The captain watched them go. "Does he still say he can understand that dumb beast?"

Jaga's amiable grandpa air did not dissipate, but he glanced at the cat with eyes so suddenly hard they looked glacial. "You have news of the Atrox case."

The captain inclined his head. "My men have discovered that Atrox was disliked in the community by cats as well as other species. He had a reputation for being vicious, spiteful and venomous. Nobody but the master of the house seems terribly upset that he died, and _he _is more concerned about finding another overseer for his workshop. "

"Charming. And what of suspects?" Snarf finished piddling – well, he had to keep up appearances – and pretended to be worried about marking territory. "I will be leaving the city tonight, and I'd like to know at least that there _are _suspects."

"His neck was broken. No knife wounds, no other marks. He must have been attacked from behind. I don't have any leads. Whoever they were left neither fur nor marks. We have tripled the nightly guard in the area, but we have _nothing_." The captain paused. "We have a possible motive. That is what I wished to inform you of. We have a report that he might have attacked some of the household slaves for impertinence. None of them will speak up about the night; I think they're protecting the murderer. But there are mutterings and rumors."

Jaga stood in silence for a moment. "Hm. The term 'murder' can't be used if there are extenuating circumstances you know. If the person were protecting them from a rampage from Atrox…"

The captain made a derisive, angry noise. "You think you can trust a word out of _their _mouths?"

Jaga looked at the captain, and Snarf was glad he was hidden. Though the old cat's face remained the same, Snarf could smell the anger coming off of him. "They may or may not be trustworthy. But the information is worth considering. You are dismissed, Captain. I will inform the king of your suspicions."

"Is it necessary to involve his Highness in this case? A cat is dead, but we will find the culprit if I am given leave to interrogate…"

"You are _not _given leave to interrogate in your preferred manner, Captain." Jaga's voice was soft. "The king wishes to be kept informed because he is alarmed that the culprit is still at large and has gotten away from your forces so easily. You are dismissed." The captain saluted him and began to retreat. "Oh…by the way. I mentioned that I am leaving the city for four months to check the colonies, didn't I?"

"Yes sir."

"Well," Jaga said, and Snarf eyed him; he knew that tone. He hadn't been hanging around very long, but that particular way of weighing his words had become very notable. "I will not be around to look after the heir. I want you and your men to watch him better than you ordinarily would in my absence. And if that means personally walking with him and listening to him talk while you accompany him, do so."

To Snarf's surprise the captain looked pained. His distaste was evident, and it was rather alarming. "Sir, what harm can possibly come to him here? Are not our normal sentries sufficient?"

"Perhaps. But I should think we'd prefer to be safe than sorry. Because I assure you, if I come back and he is not happy and safe, forget any punishment the king can devise;_ I_ will personally make you sorry." With that Jaga left, and Snarf trotted after him, letting the conversation slip from his mind as watched the rattled captain leave with relief.

* * *

"Do you _have _to go?"

Jaga never ceased to amaze Snarf. Here he was, packing several satchels of items, tidying up his quarters, all with a moping cub clinging to his neck. "It's rather important that I check on the new cat colonies, Lion-O. Last we heard they were having trouble fighting with the viper clans from down south. They'll need help until the seasons turn and start getting cold; reptiles don't like the cold. Their bodies aren't built for frosts."

Lion-O moodily buried his face in the white beard, Jaga tucking one arm around Lion-O's back as he ambled about the room, adjusting items and covering them with sheets to protect them from dust. Snarf watched from the foot of the bed, inhaling the smell of tea and paper. He'd come to associate that smell with the nice old geezer, and it was soothing. Lion-O still held on to Jaga's torso like a baby monkian, little arms tucked around his neck. "I know. But I'm gonna miss you, Jaga. And we've gotta find Snarf's mommy."

"I know. But I've instructed the captain to help you. The sentries that make rounds in the city know to look for them." Jaga sounded a little weary, but Snarf lashed his tail; random guards looking for Mama and the kits? They'd never find them. Snarfs were not so easily caught or found, if the guards even really bothered looking. And Mama would not have any way of knowing that he was alive, so she'd never go with them anyway. And Snarf himself going would annoy the cats, and he knew that they'd be just as inclined to dump him anywhere and go back claiming they'd found his family.

No, Snarf was not going to rely on these guys. But Lion-O looked at Snarf, and his eyes were suddenly sad.

"You mean I can't go with you into the city to look for them?" Jaga had finished packing and began to carry the prince out of the room. Snarf hopped to the floor and followed him through the door, heading toward Lion-O's room. In the corridor's windows, stars gleamed in the dark and the paleness of the walls surrounding the palace winked from the ground when he hopped to see out of one.

"No. I'm sorry. If you were older, perhaps. But you are very young, and the city is a dangerous place. The guards will do their best; I'll leave them very careful instructions." They entered Lion-O's room and Snarf watched as Jaga managed to work himself free of Lion-O's grip and sat the cub on his bed. "You need to go to sleep."

Lion-O suddenly looked crafty. "If I don't go to sleep, you won't be able to leave without me hanging on."

"I could outrun you."

"Would you?" Jaga eyed Lion-O and his plaintive face.

Then the old cat sighed. "No. But I really do have to go, Lion-O. I'm nearly finished packing." Lion-O's face fell, and Jaga went to the foot of the bed where the cub's nightclothes had been laid out. "Come now, get changed and I'll tuck you in.

Lion-O cackled when Jaga tickled his stomach and slipped the pajama shirt over his head so he was snug and warm and obediently changed his shorts. Jaga then tugged back the blanket and stuffed Lion-O under the thick sheets and tucked them around him. "Well then. I suppose you're ready to sleep now?"

"Nope. Can I have a story, Jaga? How about the one about the Nai(2) that live in the ocean with the fish people?" Lion-O freed himself from the blankets and crawled over the bed to make room, patting the spot beside him. Jaga settled in and appeared to scratch his head.

"Oh…you mean the one about the sea witch who turned the Nai into stone, and the fishmen who rescued them by defeating her spell with the power of sunlight?"

A vigorous nod was his reply, and Jaga half-winked. "Perhaps. I'll make this an extra long story, since it'll be the last one for a while."

Jaga knew more stories than the king knew historic battles, and Lion-O drank in every one. It was a sweet delight to see his face fix attentively on Jaga's words, eyes bright and sleepless as the adventures unfolded. Snarf sighed and listened as well, enjoying the adventures. Hey, no one could say they weren't cool to listen to, right? Better than the stupid stories the king told Tygra about lizards being conquered and whatnot.

But, as always, the story came to an end. The witch was vanquished, the hero married the brave and noble woman of his dreams, and it was time to tuck Lion-O in again. His face was quiet when Jaga tugged the covers over him and stroked his mane. "I'm really gonna miss you, Jaga. I love you," Lion-O mumbled. Jaga paused, and Snarf was deeply moved when the old cat lowered his head to kiss Lion-O's forehead.

"And I love you, Lion-O. Very much. That's why I have to go; to help make sure that you, and other cubs like you, are safe. The viper clan would not stop at the colonies. If they conquered them, Thundera would be the next place they went after. It is my duty to protect the crown, and I must perform it as best I can."

Lion-O nodded, fidgeting. "Can I have one more goodnight kiss?"

Jaga acquiesced, and Lion-O kissed his cheek. Then he giggled and rubbed his face. "Your whiskers are itchy!"

Snarf didn't see what kisses meant, really. Snarfs licked each other, but that helped groom fur along with providing warm comfort. Or nuzzling could help get rid of an itch, and clean the coat. A kiss just didn't do anything. Cats were strange, honestly.

Jaga bade them goodnight and left the room in silence, promising that he would be back as soon as he could be.

And Snarf waited for an hour to make sure Lion-O had fallen asleep before making his bid for freedom.

Snarf had never felt quite so much guilt before, but neither had his instincts ever told him what to do so strongly. He did not want the help of cats in finding his family; Snarfs were best left to their own affairs, and cats just didn't understand them. But he crept to his cushion and burrowed under it and placed the object he'd so meticulously hidden under it on the top of the cushion. A little goodbye, apologetic gift for Lion-O.

At any rate, Snarf left in the middle of the night. He had a better chance of getting out unhindered. He snuck out of Lion-O's room, meowing a faint farewell – the guards that had taken their posts ignored him utterly, assuming he was going outside to piddle – and wound his way to canal exit that was his ticket to freedom, every cough and footstep making him jump before he got outside and scurried across the courtyard. His heart pounded as he wriggled through the bars and landed in the water, swimming in the shallow water until he found another bank where he could climb up and get to the road outside the palace. It had been easy to skirt across the road and bound down the steps to the lower city.

Two hours later, he discovered that this had all been a very bad idea.

Apparently, when the old geezer said he needed to rest for two weeks, he _meant _two weeks. Snarf's legs ached and his muscles twitched, and the burns on his tail – unprotected from the dirty earthen paths of the city – were starting to sting. It had not occurred to him that the palace was in the more affluent part of the city, and that he would have to wander around until he could catch the smell of the middle class houses and shops to start to sniff around for the odor of Snarfs.

Apparently the slums were easy to wander into if one was not street savvy. They wound in spots and bubbles, sudden areas of poverty right beside where the richer dwelled. Probably because the wealthy had laborers and slaves, and not all of them wanted to bother giving their help adequate housing. Entire communities that worked for them seemed to swell like dirty villages near the richest houses. Apparently the smell didn't bother them as much as paying the help would have. Everything smelled weird and new and awkward in the dark, the odor of rodents and strange people distracting him.

Snarf had never been in the actual slums. The boys had been merchants' sons, ambling around the snootier part of town looking for amusement and trouble, and Mama had always kept the kits away from the slimy parts of Thundera. "Bad things happen there, my kits. Don't ever go there unless you've got no other option. And never trust anyone you meet there."

He finally came to a stop by a wooden stall, bare and empty of goods for the night and smelling of rot. Stars gleamed above him as he squatted between the filthy walls and sighed. What in the world was he going to do? If he couldn't find Mama and the kits, should he go back to the palace? Would they take him back? Did he really _want_ to go back? Perhaps he ought to simply try to find his way to the slightly nicer part of the city to make a nest. Then he could search for his family during the day when he could see properly.

Something shuffled across the way in the street he had just vacated. Snarf hissed, fur lifting and making him look fierce and feral. He hoped. "Hey! You come out of there! I warn you, I'm not going quietly!"

Such a display would hopefully make the person scram. And if not, well, adrenaline was a wonderful thing when you had to sprint. But the street was silent but for the sound of small feet in the dirt of that bumpy, smelly street and the sloping overhangs. "Come on! I know you're there!"

He heard a faint giggle. "You look like a cotton ball."

A familiar face peeped out from behind the corner and Snarf's jaw dropped. "What…what are you doing here?"

Lion-O looked out of place as he huddled by the wall as if it were Jaga, a place of safety. Snarf glanced across the streets and slowly padded toward him, tail flicking in irritation. "You shouldn't be out here! It's dangerous! And how the heck did you follow me?"

Snarfs were very good at being quiet. And Lion-O hadn't been trained in the ways of hunting, had he? So how had he trailed him without Snarf noticing him? Lion-O's little smile turned down, blue eyes staring shyly at Snarf.

"I heard you say goodbye. The present was cool. But I wanted to help you find your mommy. Why'd you leave before we could help?" Lion-O voice was reproachful, and Snarf plopped onto his behind, finding the tip of his fuzzy tail interesting. The fur was starting to grow back.

"Snarfs are like that. Cats aren't generally very nice to Snarfs, and Jaga said you wouldn't be the one allowed to help me find Mama. It would've been some other people that didn't care." And Snarfs, while not overtly proud, did not accept aid from others if they didn't have to. He had no method of payment, even if he'd left something to remember him by.

Lion-O knelt in the dirt so Snarf didn't have to crane his neck to meet his gaze. "Oh. Yeah, I'm not supposed to be out here," he admitted. Snarf stiffened a little.

"How _did_ you get out here?" he asked, suddenly realizing the danger of the situation. A Snarf on its own was not safe; a child and a Snarf was no better. And there were evil people who would kill either of them without guilt lurking in the dark.

"Same way you did. The bars were big enough for me." As small as he was, Snarf was not surprised. On his hind feet Snarf stood at about waist height to the cub. Lion-O's head went about to Jaga's thigh including his mane. For him to fit through the gaps would not have been hard. "Then I followed you. I thought you might not like me coming, so I hid."

"What were you thinking? It's very dangerous out here for a cub! Some bad person might have grabbed you! We're lost as it is!" Snarf shut his mouth and looked around, willing himself to calm down. It would do no good to panic, nor to frighten Lion-O. But the cub seemed calm enough, more curious than nervous. "Agh…we've gotta go back to the palace now. I'm sorry I left without saying anything, and I don't have a chance of finding Mama when it's so dark. Maybe we can backtrack using our scent. It shouldn't be gone yet." Snarf lifted his nose and sniffed, trying to distinguish the different odors.

Lion-O was looking around. "I've never been this far outside the walls before. I went with Jaga to the river once, but that's it. That's how I learned to swim; he taught me. It smells funny out here."

_Tell me about it, _Snarf thought. The faintest hint of himself and Lion-O wafted and drifted before his nose like a thread. "Come on, I think I found it. We need to head back now. Maybe if we hurry we can get back before anyone realizes we're gone." He paused. "How did you get past the guards? There were a couple in the halls that ignored me; how could you have gotten past them?"

"I went out the window. I saw you were going outside onto the steps so I just climbed down the wall." He showed Snarf his claws. "I'm a good climber."

Snarf's jaw dropped. True, the prince's window was not far from the ground – the king did not want him in a high room until he was older and could be trusted with a balcony – but that he had climbed down a story without being seen was a bit of a shock. "That's so…I don't even know. That was dangerous and dumb. And kind of impressive." The last part made Lion-O perk up as Snarf trotted forward. "Never do that again. Look, just stay close. We'll figure out how to get back in the room when we get inside the walls. If we get caught, we're in so much trouble."

For a few minutes there was silence. Lion-O kept close but didn't touch, examining the walls of the buildings and the dark, still windows that were little more than badly cut holes in the walls. "I didn't know the slums looked like this," he said softly, peeping into a lower window.

Snarf nipped at the hem of his shirt. He wore a dark cloak over it, but the paleness of his pajamas made Snarf nervous. "Don't look into peoples' houses, it's rude. And most of them aren't quite this bad from what I saw." Piles of trash littered the street, and even the occasion pile of bodily refuse. Good grief, at least _bury _it. That's what he did. The earth beneath their feet felt sludgy and cold, as if it were trod upon by many feet, most of them sweaty. Snarf wondered if jumping in the canal when he got back to clean off would be a bad idea.

He stopped. Lion-O nearly tripped over him. "What's wrong?"

"Sh!" Snarf hissed. His ears lifted, lashing his tail. Looking back along the way they'd come, Snarf felt uneasy. "I think…we're being followed."

"Really? By who?" Lion-O's voice was soft and his pupils large, taking in the vacant, broken little street. Snarf shook his head.

"Don't know. Put your hood on and don't let them see your face. They can't know you're a lion."

"Why?"

Snarf gnashed his teeth. "They just can't. Bad people would kidnap you and try to get your dad to do something in order to get you back. Like in the stories Jaga tells you, like the one with the prince of the birds. Remember?" Lion-O obediently put the hood up.

"What do we do?" he asked. Snarf nudged his side.

"Keep walking. If you hear something, don't turn around. If you hear them right behind you, run for it. Don't worry about me, they won't care about a Snarf. Don't stop, no matter what."

"But what if they hurt you-?"

"Just run. I'll be okay." Snarf could hardly believe what was coming out of his mouth. Perhaps there was something to that bizarre rhyme about Snarfs and adventure after all. He kept his ears pricked forward, listening intently as they wandered down the street.

From the alley up ahead, a shape emerged like ink from a broken bottle. Snarf nearly yowled in surprise. "Hello there," they said. The voice was feminine, smooth, pretty. Snarf hated it instantly. He was gratified to feel that Lion-O too tensed. "What is a little boy like you doing out here? It's a little late to walk your pet, isn't it?"

Everything about Snarf was screaming, "Bad! Bad! Don't go near her!" The feeling was like spiky ash, chunks of charcoal. It was utterly unlike being around Lion-O, which always had this feeling of…warm fuzziness. Or Jaga, who had this misty, friendly quality about him. This woman – some form of weasel, apparently – was tall, and though she stood with an unaggressive stance, there was something dangerous about her claws and pointed nose. She smiled; she had long orange hair and amber eyes, and she might have been quite pretty if her teeth hadn't been so jagged.

She paced toward them and her clothing jingled. Under her tunic and breeches seemed to be metal, and Snarf wondered if they were knives or coins making the noise. "What's the matter, kitten? Cat got your tongue?" She laughed. "Are you lost? Maybe I can help."

"Don't trust her. She's evil. Tell her you were running an errand for your dad and that he expects you back in a minute." Lion-O blinked and opened his mouth uncertainly. "I know it's not true. But I think telling a fib is okay here."

"I'm fine. I had to go get a letter for my dad. He told me to be back really quick." It sounded reasonable, but the woman smirked; Snarf knew she hadn't bought it. Lion-O could not inject the ring of truth into a lie. He was a horrible liar. But this woman was not; he could smell the deceit on her like grease. Snarf flicked his tail, and wondered if he could climb high enough up her tunic to claw at her eyes.

"You know, it's bad to lie. Little boys who lie get into big trouble." She stopped a few steps away, and he could see that her body fur was brown and her underbelly creamy white. Her grin was frighteningly gentle.

"So do ladies who lie." Lion-O suddenly sounded quieter, backing away a little. Snarf moved with him.

"Oh! How cruel. How have I lied?" She looked hurt. "I'm just being friendly."

Lion-O nodded, and his eyes gleamed like cold mirrors from beneath the hood. "Exactly. You're acting nice. But you're not. That's a lie just the same as saying something not true. Jaga told me."

"'Jaga?' Who is that?" She only asked so she could distract him, but Lion-O – though tenderhearted – was nobody's fool. Perhaps he had some Snarf sense of his own; he too seemed to sense the ill intent. He didn't answer, and Snarf bared his teeth at the woman.

Something behind them moved and Lion-O yelped. "Hey! Lemme go!"

Snarf whirled around and saw that another weasel had grabbed Lion-O around the middle and pinned his arms. This one was darker in color than the woman but he was taller, if just as skinny. He growled when Lion-O bit his paw, smacking the cub. "Shut up."

Snarf's fur felt electric. Looking back, he decided that madness took him for about thirty seconds.

He screamed a Snarf scream and hurled himself at the weasel, clawing his way up his side until he reached his shoulder, shimmying when the crook tried to knock him off. Snarfs are not strong, and they are not the best of fighters, but they have claws and instinctively know how to use them.

Lion-O fell from the man's grip as he howled, clapping his paws instead to his eyes. Snarf flung himself off the weasel's shoulders, barreling toward Lion-O, ignoring the pains in his legs and bruises.

"Go! Go! I told you to run!" Now that Snarf was with him Lion-O obeyed, ignoring the snarls of the male weasel.

The woman blocked them, lithe and lean. She smiled again and Snarf was the one howling when she kicked him in the face. The impact sent him flying back, into the dirt, and his bruises seemed to explode all over again in a new pulse of pain. Lion-O stopped, speechless.

"Snarf! You mean lady!" To Snarf's horror Lion-O doubled back and jumped on the woman's shoulders, hissing and biting at her ears. She screeched, bowing in a quick motion, hurling Lion-O over her head. But the cub held on grimly, and it was not until the other weasel had recovered enough to hurry over and pry him off that she could free herself. Snarf got to his feet, squealing fit to raise the dead. The woman spotted him and pounced, grabbing his head in one paw and all but smothering him.

"Snarf! Let him go you-!"

Lion-O was silenced and Snarf's fury was replaced with terror. The street was deserted but for them, and if nobody had heard him screaming, there was no telling what these freaks would do.

"Well. More trouble than I was expecting." The male had a scratchy voice, and his eyes were a dark green. Lion-O squirmed in his grip, trying to bite the paw that covered his mouth again, and Snarf was hot and angry all over again, clawing at the woman's arm. Blood followed his claws, but even though she flinched and was steadily looking more and more like a scratching post, she tightened her grip.

"But not more trouble than they're worth. The cloak looks like fine cloth. And cat's been scarce since the guards started getting agitated about Atrox's death. No idea what this thing is, but extra meat is always welcome in the market."

"_Black_ market. Whatever that is won't be acceptable in Thundera's saintly, law-abiding stalls. But I know a few wolves from the laboring sector who'd pay through the nose for fresh cat meat, if we can ship it outside the walls." Snarf stopped struggling and stared. Lion-O's eyes were huge over the gritty paw.

…_No way. They wouldn't. A Snarf, okay. Everybody treats Snarfs like trash. But…a kid? A cub? Lion-O?_

Revulsion – pure hatred – choked him, and Snarf dragged his claws as deeply into the flesh of the woman's arm as he could, ripping through a vein. Surprised – he'd been slack with shock – she yelped, letting go of him. Snarf tumbled to the ground and bawled as loud as his tiny lungs would let him as he lunged for the male weasel, clawing with the intent of cutting up as much flesh as he could.

But the weasel made a sound in his throat, a sort of, "_Huck!"_ noise, and his arms released Lion-O. The cub hit the ground and he sat there, too stunned and scared to move. Snarf backed up hastily to yank at his sleeve, but at the sight of what was behind the weasel, he too froze.

It was tall and broad and wearing loose, dark clothing that covered every part of him, even his paws. A wooden mask concealed his face; it was smooth and carved to fit over the figure's long snout. The weasel crumpled before him, and though Lion-O hopefully didn't know it, Snarf sensed he was stone dead. The man glanced down at Lion-O, and his eyes were beady and dark from behind the eyeholes of the mask. The bottom of the mask was bloody, and Snarf realized with a sick lurch in his stomach that the figure had bitten the weasel in the neck and broken it between his jaws and sharp teeth.

He smelled weird. Unlike anything Snarf had ever smelled before.

The female weasel gasped and turned to flee. The man slung himself after her in a peculiar, rocking gait, faster than Snarf would have expected from such a heavily-muscled being. He made to grab her but she kicked out, striking him in the mouth. He snarled and snapped at her, and Snarf smelled blood when his teeth ripped her flesh. She screamed in pain and he let go when she swung her other leg up to kick him again, and Snarf saw black, curving claws from under his gloves. Watching her flee, the man hissed like kettle as he nursed his jaw.

"Are you hurt?" It was a shock to hear him speak. His voice was low, pleasant, and had a faintly foreign lilt, as if Thunderan were not his first language. It was like smoke and some kind of dark candy. His jaw flashed beneath the mask.

"No…you got them before they hurt me." Lion-O looked at Snarf, who stood as if he had been electrified. "Are you okay, Snarf?"

"Yeah. Fine." The figure paced heavily back toward them, and Snarf took in the muscular body with apprehension. His arms were thick and his feet wide, and that peculiar scent of his was driving Snarf crazy. He couldn't identify it.

Nor could he identify any hidden malice. Whoever this person was, he was not like those weasels. "That is good. Where were you going?"

Lion-O paused, and peered up at the man from under his hood. "…I think I can trust you," he said soberly. "I was going to the wall around the palace. I, uh, live by it." Truth, technically. The man laughed, and it was rich and a little ironic.

"You are a bit of a way from it. What were you doing out?" Lion-O shuffled his feet and glanced at Snarf. "Ah. Following a Snarf. Dangerous. Imps of adventure will lead you into all sorts of trouble."

Snarf's ears perked up. Did this guy know about Snarfs? If he did, could he help him find Mama? "Can you understand me?" he asked hopefully. The man looked down at him.

"I presume he is trying to speak to me. I apologize little creature, but I do not have the purity necessary to understand your speech. It has been a long time since I had such love in my heart." In spite of this disappointment, Snarf was strangely pleased; the man talked to him like a person. "I take it this cub understands you?"

Lion-O nodded. With some interest the figure knelt and looked at Lion-O's face. "That is rare. Even children do…not…"

The friendliness abated. The dark eyes were suddenly black, and he straightened, taking a few steps back. "You are a lion?"

Lion-O looked at Snarf who uneasily edged toward him. "Well…yeah."

"Lions are of royal blood. There are only two male lions in this city."

There was tenseness to his body now, and Snarf hissed softly.

"You say you live by the palace wall. Do you mean within it?" Lion-O had started to shake, and he took a step back. The being followed him, and Snarf – knowing it was foolhardy – snarled up at the muscular, angry figure.

"You back off! I don't know what your problem is, but I'll be darned if I'm gonna let you hurt Lion-O!" The figure stopped, examining him as he spoke. The blackness in his eyes faded a little back to a deep brown.

"It defends you. You must be very loving." The voice was quiet again, and again brought to mind dark candy. As if he were uncertain of something the man sighed through his nostrils and glanced upwards, scratching one arm. "Why me? I cannot be discovered…"

Lion-O huddled by an empty stall, staring at his rescuer with appraising eyes. "Are you…are you gonna kill me?" he whispered. "Because if you are, leave Snarf alone, please. He's gotta find his mommy."

The plea struck Snarf in the heart. His eyes felt wet; Snarfs do not cry very often, but when they do the sound is said to bring physical pain to the hearer. It was an old story, and right then he didn't care if it were true or not. His muscles grew taut and he yowled more fiercely.

But if the man had been uncertain before, he was tender now. "Bah…I will not kill you. You have put me in a predicament, I grant you. But I am not like those vermin; I will not kill a child." He snorted at the weasel still crumpled in the street. "Come. I will show you the way back. But you must be quiet, and if anyone speaks to you in the street, do not answer."

Lion-O looked at the proffered paw hesitantly. Glancing at the weasel, he asked, "Is he…dead?"

"I had no choice but to kill him. He would have killed you both and sold the meat in the most sordid of markets that even the guards fear to tread. It was attack or let him murder you." Lion-O shivered.

"He was a bad guy." Even so, pity made Lion-O bury his mouth in his cloak, looking like some form of turtle for a moment. "What about the lady? Why'd you let her run away?"

Snarf did not know what to do. The man seemed friendly again, but who knew if he would become angry once more? If Lion-O took his paw, this person could drag him anywhere as powerful as he was. But there was a sense of trust around him – not so great as there was around Lion-O, but it was not so different. Even if he had just seemed so frightening…

"I cannot run fast for long. But she will not get far. My bite will see to that. Only the finest physicians in the world could save her now, and she has no means to get to one." Lion-O looked confused, staring up at the black, curled claws, longer than his middle finger. "My bite is very dangerous," the man explained at last, gently. "My teeth are filthy by nature, and to be bitten by one of my kind is a certain death by infection." He sighed. "Not to mention it will soon be evident that I am within the city…"

"What…what are you?" The figure did not reply, merely holding out his paw again. Other than the curled claws, there was nothing poking from the gloves that either Lion-O or Snarf could see.

Finally, he said, "I am the only person who can see you home safely, Prince Lion-O. I guarantee you will find no others in this place kindly to your plight." Lion-O looked around as if to check if he was correct, but returned his gaze to the man.

"Jaga says I shouldn't talk to strangers." He sounded uncertain.

"You have been talking to one for the past several minutes." The person looked around and said, "I have no interest in harming you. Does the beast trust me?"

Snarf meowed his opinion and Lion-O voiced it. "He thinks you're nice, but he doesn't know for sure. How'd you know my name?"

"Very little in life is certain. And as I said, there are only two male lions in the city. The king is one and his son is the other. Since you are a cub, I am to assume you are the son." There was no hint of mockery in the voice, and Lion-O grinned.

"You talk kind of like Jaga." He put his paw in the man's, and Snarf watched the claws tuck carefully around the soft paw. "You know my name. What's yours?"

The man tilted his head and Snarf stepped close to Lion-O's feet. The scent was driving him mad, and he simply hadn't ever smelled a cat like this. "That is my business I am afraid. Come. I must take you to my abode. I can take you home from there by a route I know well. But I will offer you my word that no harm will come to you or Snarf, as you call him."

Snarf's heart hammered as he followed the slow, swaying gait of the stranger. He sensed no lies, but the mark of a good liar was to seem as if he spoke truth. He would watch this person, and the killing teeth he claimed he had. And if he tried to hurt Lion-O, Snarf would fight tooth and claw. And then he realized what a grievous error he'd made.

…He'd known the kid a week and he was attached to him. Curse his Snarf-y nature.

* * *

"Is this where you live? Is that a chair? It's carved funny. Why are the windows boarded up? This rug is pretty; did you make it?"

Lion-O's shy fear had abated, and Snarf sighed and covered his eyes with a paw; when excited, Lion-O babbled nonstop. It was sort of adorable, but it seemed to make the figure uneasy. He was likely not used to such chatter, for the room smelled lonely and dirty. No others lived here.

It was a small building he had brought them to, attached to an old, fancy building. It had probably been home to a household's indentured servants once before the nobles moved away and let it fall into disrepair. It had two floors but was thick and run down, the bricks strong and tarnished. As Lion-O had observed, the windows were clumsily boarded and the whole place just seemed dark and uncomfortable. If there had been light and blankets it might have been cozy. The door had creaked when it opened, and Snarf was disconcerted to note that the man locked it after them.

"No, the rug was here when I arrived. Yes, that is a chair. I carved it. And the windows are boarded to keep people out. They do not know I live here, a fact which I would appreciate remaining unchanged." Lion-O was looking over the chair, which was admittedly shaped for a large, tall person. The man watched him in curiosity, as if he had never seen a cub before, and Snarf dogged Lion-O's heels, sniffing everything in an attempt to identify the stranger. He had not removed his mask and his eyes were the only things Snarf could see in the absolute dark of the room. They were dark and glittered in the tiny holes.

Lion-O brushed against the man's side. "Are you gonna take your mask off?"

"No. I only entered my home so I could take you the safest route I know." He pointed toward the ramshackle steps in the corner. "We exit through a gap in the roof and I will carry you over the rooftops. It is how I get around this part of town."

"Wow. Why don't you just walk everywhere? That'd be easier." Lion-O was still looking at the mask, peering under it and holding on to the stranger's claws.

"It is not in my best interests to be seen." Snarf didn't like that Lion-O so trustingly held the cloth-covered paw of this stranger, and he nudged insistently at Lion-O's calf. The claws scared him. "Come, up the stairs. Be careful of splinters."

Lion-O hopped up the stairs, occasionally scrambling on all fours when he started to trip. The stranger watched with amusement, permitting Snarf to climb up after the cub. Snarf's legs ached as he bounded, but the prospect of getting back to palace – which was safe if nothing else – made him move faster. "What can I call you? Since you don't want to tell me your name," Lion-O said, waiting at the top of the stairs for him.

The person sighed through his nose. "You never cease questioning, do you?"

"Jaga says the same thing. So…?"

The second floor was as barren as the first, and there were no windows here either. Only a spot in the ceiling that looked like it had a thin, thatched covering over it. The man was tall enough to slide it aside and open the way to the stars and night. "You do not need to call me anything. After I take you home, I daresay we will not meet again." He knelt and flicked his head, gesturing for Lion-O and Snarf to get on his back. "Hold tight to my shoulders and I will take you over the roofs."

Lion-O clambered carefully onto his back but stopped and hopped off. "Your skin is so weird! Are you sick?"

"That's rude!" Snarf hissed; he didn't want to make the man angry.

"No. That is simply how my skin is." He seemed patient, but there was something very cautious about his tone now.

"Don't you have any fur?" Lion-O asked, peering up at the mask as Snarf tried to get him to stop asking questions by tugging on his paw.

"No."

"So you're bald?"

Snarf groaned, but the man laughed. "You might say that."

Lion-O lowered his gaze to the man's paw, observing the curled black claws. "I've never seen a cat with such long claws. And you smell different from a cat."

The laugh was cut short. "That is enough questions. Come, on my back." Lion-O meekly returned to the man's back and Snarf perched atop one of the man's shoulders. They felt almost pebbly under his toes and the black fabric.

And then they were up through the hole and standing atop the roof, the wide feet – covered by cloth except for claws that matched those on the man's paws – finding purchase and beginning to run. This roof was uneven and poor, making it easy for the claws to dig in and push forward. "Wow!" Lion-O said, lowering his voice just in time. "It's like flying!"

Snarf just clung to the man's shoulder and tried not to scream when he cleared a gap between the roof of one house and the rather nicer one of another, lunging over the space between them. "Be very quiet. I do not want anyone to know of us."

He darted along in silence, and Snarf noticed that he ran with a gait that made little noise. Buildings and windows sped by, lights from lanterns and clotheslines. It was a swift change into the affluent apartments; there was clean brick and finer curtains, and the roofs were harder to run on, slick and made of shingles. There were a few people in the streets below, but none of them looked up, and they traveled in secrecy.

The man never stopped. The palace wall loomed sharply before them and Snarf nearly screeched when he leapt from one building straight to the ground before it. But he landed well, claws clicking a little. "The guards will not come here. It is too far from the entrances." He breathed hard from his run, and knelt so Lion-O could climb down.

"Are you okay? Did you run too much?" he asked. Snarf squirmed; he could see the canal. It was right _there_, water bubbling as if greeting them. Why did Lion-O have to have an even Snarfier nature than he?

"I ran too fast. Not too much. And it is cold, which makes me tired." The man sighed, still crouching. Snarf thought it a very mild night, but the man exhaled on his shaking paws. "Can you get back inside now?"

Lion-O didn't answer. He was squinting at the bottom of the mask. Then, without asking, he lifted his paw and brushed his fingers over the man's chin. He flinched and the man hissed – not a cat hiss.

It sounded draconic, like steam. The bottom of Snarf's stomach seemed to drop out.

This close and in the moonlight, it was _obvious _that this was no cat. The shadows of the slums had concealed him, but now Snarf could see his lower jaw cast into sharp relief. It looked…scaly.

_Lizard. Some kind of lizard. _He wanted to yowl but his throat closed in terror. Everyone knew the stories about lizards, even Snarfs living in the alleyways. The cats warred with them, and they were all barbarians. Whether that sentiment was simply propaganda or not, Snarf knew that any lizard in Thundera that was not chained to a wall or in a prison cell was dangerous.

Lion-O gazed at the man who was still crouched in the street and then looked down at the claws. In response the clawed paws twitched, as if debating on whether or not to slice into the cub to keep him from screaming. But Lion-O showed no sign of disgust or panic. "You're a lizard?" Innocent curiosity made the tense moment suddenly soften, and the man cocked his head.

"Yes." Lion-O reached up to touch his chin again and Snarf saw an artery in the lizard's neck throb. It was a soft motion, and so was the little tug to remove the wooden mask.

Beneath it the lizard _did _look like the common picture of a dragon. He had a snout of medium length, flared nostrils and sharp teeth when he opened his mouth in surprise. His eyes were dark, and unlike a cat's eye, they did not have whites but rather blackness. Snarf now understood why his eyes had seemed so small and dark; from behind the mask he hadn't been able to see anything but his irises.

"I've never met a lizard before." Lion-O's matter-of-fact tone was once more a balm to the terror. "You look like the dragon in my storybook."

The man eyed him, and Snarf was suddenly scared of his claws again. This guy had broken the neck of a full-grown weasel; it would be so easy for him to do the same to Lion-O, tiny and helpless as they both were. There was no way he'd let them live now, not when they knew what he was, would he? A lizard running free rampant in the city?

The lizard sighed out his nose. "Of all the people on Third Earth, why did the Maker of All decide_ I_ had to find _you_? I have no time for this…"

Lion-O had no reply to this statement, letting his palm touch the tip of the lizard's nose. "Wow. It's all bumpy and scaly. Does your skin ever itch?" he asked.

"Little prince, I do not think you understand. I am a lizard. Has not the king told you stories of horror about lizards?" Lion-O shrugged.

"Nope. He tells them to Tygra sometimes for history lessons. He doesn't tell me stories, though. He's always busy when I go to bed." He tilted his head. "How come your nose is so long? Does it help you smell better? And do you ever get itchy?"

The lizard was vexed, obviously. "Well, it…I do not know how well cats smell, so I have no idea if my senses are keener. And of course I itch sometimes, everyone does. But you…agh." He buried his face in one clawed paw after looking around to make absolutely certain that there were no guards. The walls were so great – not to mention generally unassailable – that there would not be someone along for a while, Snarf knew. But that didn't mean that some peasant or noble out at night couldn't see them. "Look. I cannot be discovered, Prince Lion-O. You have put me in a very hard place. By all rights I should not let you return home. I am here for an important reason, and if you tell anyone of me, or where I live…"

Lion-O stopped examining his nose and instead glanced at the wall. "What are you doing in Thundera? You're not doing anything bad, are you?"

"That depends on your definitions of 'bad.' And I cannot tell you. But neither can I kill you. I would be the lowest scum to kill a child, and I should not like to see what judgment awaits the soul who commits such a deed." He sighed violently. "Swear to me that you will not speak of me to anyone and I will leave. Return to your home and forget you ever saw me. If all goes well I will be out of Thundera within two months."

Lion-O looked at Snarf. "What do you think, Snarf?"

The kid wanted _his_ opinion? Snarf's tail flicked uneasily. "I don't think he's lying. I don't smell a lie on him. But I just want to get inside where it's safe. Just say you'll do it and forget it."

Lion-O frowned. "But…can I tell Jaga when he comes back?"

"No, "Snarf began to say, but the lizard beat him to it, snarling.

"No! You must not speak of me to anyone!" His claws clenched Lion-O's arms, and for the first time fear entered Lion-O's eyes.

"Wh-What'll you do?"

Snarf stared at the lizard's face; could he claw through that tough flesh? Could he reach the dark eyes or sensitive, twitching nostrils with enough cuts to distract him so Lion-O could find a guard? Heck, could a rookie guard stop this thing? He was big, and he had killing teeth if he could be believed. But at the scared way Lion-O quivered – an awful, tiny shaking of his shoulders and lower lip – the black eyes slowly melted.

"…Please." The claws were suddenly tender, and Snarf was weirdly reminded of Mama licking his face when he was frightened as the lizard released Lion-O's right shoulder to touch his mane. "I am not here to harm anyone. My particular kind of lizard has less hostility to the feline kingdom than you might think. But I have something important to do, and the only people who will be harmed are those who have hurt the innocent. I would not lie – my word is my bond. The imp knows I speak no lie. But you must tell _no one_ of me. Even this Jaga you speak of."

"But I can't lie to him," Lion-O protested softly. "Jaga's my friend. He's like my grandpa."

"Then do not lie to him; simply do not speak of me. Forget me." The lizard stood up and began to back away. "Please. It is for innocent lives I ask, not my own. Go home." He paused. "How did you…? No, do not tell me. I do not want to know."

And then he was gone, down the stairs leading to the street, and if Snarf listened intently he thought he could hear claws tick-ticking against the shingles of the roofs.

Lion-O stared after him. "Snarf?"

"Yeah?"

"…He was a good guy." He stated this, and Snarf tried to collect his thoughts.

"Okay. Well, let's not talk about him. We need to get inside and sneak back into your room. We'll be in tons of trouble if we get caught."

The idea of getting chewed out was positively hilarious when he thought of what _could _have happened to them. The fact that a lizard was apparently loose in Thundera didn't matter; they were alive and as soon as they got inside the wall, they were safe. He tugged at the hem of Lion-O's cloak. "C'mon. Before anyone sees."

"I wish I knew his name. He was…nice." Lion-O followed Snarf, sliding along the bank of the canal until he climbed into the hole in the wall and wriggled with a little difficulty through the squares of iron bars. Snarf followed him with more ease and they both made it into the courtyard, dripping wet. And Snarf immediately set about forgetting the lizard as best he could.

Getting back to the room proved to be easy and a haze. Snarf's energy was spent after his fight and repeated bursts of terror, so he was barely conscious when Lion-O picked him up and headed back to his room. Too tired to try climbing up the way he'd come, Lion-O encountered a guard and said that he'd gone to find Snarf who had fallen in the canal, which was basically true. Amazingly, Snarf didn't think any of the guards would have noticed the waif of a cub if he hadn't opened his mouth. The guard had been confused, and was even more bewildered when he escorted the cub back to his room and the guard there had no idea the prince had left.

"The…the last one didn't mention that he was gone. I've been here an hour!"

Lion-O was sleepy and obviously unharmed – if peculiarly dirty and sopping – so neither of them wanted to question him. But somehow Snarf got the idea that they weren't going to be able to sneak out again very easily, as they two discussed in heated tones how to double the guard, and that if their oversight were discovered they were more likely to be hanged than fired.

Lion-O climbed into bed, holding Snarf as if he were a teddy – Doofle lay alone at the foot of the bed – and went to sleep immediately, Snarf doing the same.

His last thought of the night was simply, _'This kid's going to drive me crazy. Wait a little longer, Mama.'_

Both slept peacefully until that morning, when the maid who came in screamed her head off. Snarf slowly sat up; they weren't _that _smelly, and they were dry now. But she merely pointed at Snarf's bed, taken up by the little gift he'd left and forgotten about, and shrieked again, sprinting back out of the room.

Lion-O peered over the edge of his bed at the chubby dead briar mouse Snarf had so thoughtfully caught. He and Snarf exchanged a look. "Well…_I _thought it was cool."

Snarf shook his head. "There's no pleasing some people."

* * *

1 – 'Osbert' was the original Snarf's real name. Figured I'd toss that in for kicks.

2 - The Nai featured in one of the Marvel ThunderCats comics years ago, I believe. They were a pacifist, ocean-dwelling race.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not at all. Do you think I'd be posting here if I did? Hm…actually, that's an interesting thought; owning a franchise, but writing fan fiction of it anyway for kicks. I wonder if anyone has actually ever done that. I probably would, that'd be funny.

Wow, I'm surprised that people are interested in this. I mean, I was under the impression that I was one of few people who actually noticed Snarf…and wanted him to get some limelight. Hey, he's technically a ThunderCat too. His maneuver last episode was a highlight for me. And of course writing little Lion-O is a ton of fun.

Thank you to all the people who have reviewed and expressed interest in this; it gets more interesting as we go in further, but I don't intend on it being more than a few chapters. At any rate, I hope you enjoy the character I've developed especially for this story.

Chapters for other stories are going well. Development is underway.

This chapter is dedicated to my beloved dog, who passed away the tenth of May after twelve-and-a-half years of fun and messiness. RIP Paddington; thanks for being my sounding board for story ideas, even if you didn't talk back.

* * *

"_It was seven hundred years past when the lizards rebelled against cat rule, and they were slain like the traitors they were. But many fled – to the north, to the south, to the east, to the west. To the north went the lower lizards – the mixtures and mutants of all lizard kind, seeking to cultivate their own kingdom. Many of them died in snow and badlands, and fled back only to engage in the wars against Thundera we continue to deal with today. To the south went the serpent clans to seek hot forests and prey. To the east went the amphibious and wet lizards, to the oceans and swamps and slime. And to the west went the great and terrible lizards, across the deserts and mountains, the ones named after 'dragons'…"_

An excerpt from_ 'A Compendium of Lizards and Their Culture,'_ by Thunderan historian Tabbicus.

* * *

Snarf had weird dreams after that night.

It had been a pretty traumatizing time, really. He hadn't found Mama or the kits, he'd wandered a dank and dark city with Lion-O following, they'd nearly been killed by freaks that wanted to sell the meat, seen said freaks be killed or mortally wounded, and come face to face with what could only be described as the scariest lizard he could have ever imagined in his wildest Snarf-y nightmares.

His dreams were full of teeth – long, pale teeth, and they stank like rotting meat. A red gullet the size of a street loomed behind them, sucking in everything as he ran from them. In the blackness, he would see people he knew as he sprinted. Mama would be there, and as soon as he ran to her she would vanish into the red tunnel on his heels. Snarf would scream and keep running, because there was nothing he could do, she was gone, gone, gone…

Sometimes other people featured. Jaga never seemed to mind vanishing into the teeth, looking more interested than perturbed. Random soldiers, catallos, maids that had yelled at him – they all fell into it, swallowed into the wet red.

Lion-O did too sometimes, slipping between the teeth. And every time he screamed in fear and pain for Snarf to help him. And Snarf would wake up, thrashing and heaving and nearly sick with horror.

_Just a dream. Just a stupid dream. Quit it you crazy._

And every night Snarf would clamber onto the foot of Lion-O's bed, spying on the cub. Curled up on his pillow with Doofle tucked safely beside him, Lion-O would be fast asleep, cuddled into the blankets. Snarf would sigh and return to his pillow, listening to the quiet conversations of the guards outside with his intensely sensitive Snarf hearing. If they heard his squeals during the nightmares, they showed no sign.

One night, though, he peeped over the edge of Lion-O's bed and his heart jumped to his mouth; Lion-O was curled into a tight ball, a tuft of stiff red and brown hair, Doofle cast aside over the side of the bed. Snarf scrambled up the sheets and comforter, bounding to his tiny "master" – for lack of better terms – to see what was wrong. He butted his nose against Lion-O's face, pawing his front and pulling at his mane, even yowling until Lion-O jerked awake.

His sweat made his fur wilt and his eyes were nearly scary wide, sightless with some foggy dream that faded after a moment. Snarf's eyes met his, and Lion-O bit his lip, face screwing up as he burst into silent tears. They leaked from his eyes, darkening his fur.

It was all Snarf could do to rub up against him and lick his face, planting Snarf "kisses" – a tiny nuzzle followed by the flick of a tongue – on Lion-O's cheek. "It was just a very bad dream. What happened in it?" he asked.

Lion-O curled his arms around Snarf and huddled close, kissing Snarf's head. It made him feel weird to be stuck in the embrace and the scent of sweat and scared cub, but Lion-O needed comfort, and Snarf was the only one who could give it.

"…Daddy and Tygra and lots of people died. Mumm-Ra turned them all into sand. And Jaga tried to save me, and Mumm-Ra turned him into sand too. It was all my fault. He was after _me_."

Mumm-Ra. The Boogeyman. Snarf sighed. "What did he look like in your dream?"

Lion-O rubbed his cheek against Snarf's fur. "…I don't know. He was in the shadows the whole time. He had a really scary voice, though. And he smelled yucky."

It was merely a dream, a childish fear realized in the form of a nightmare. But Snarf could not convince him of this. He could only cuddle with him and meow and soothe him. Lion-O heaved a thick sigh and huddled under the blankets again, Snarf pressed to his side. "I miss Jaga. I want him to come home. He'd sing to me."

Snarfs could not sing. At all. But he could purr along to an old tune that Jaga had been fond of, and the sound put Lion-O to sleep, along with the light, pleasant vibrations of Snarf's side thrumming.

The guards never came in. Either they did not hear or they did not care.

Snarf didn't know which would be more disturbing.

* * *

"Your Majesty, Jaga has sent word of the colonies and the viper tribes."

Lion-O's chin jerked up and Snarf yelped when he jumped out of his chair and began running to the cat that had entered.

"Lion-O."

He stopped dead, and Snarf huddled between the legs of Lion-O's vacated chair. The deep voice echoed in the looming, marble and limestone dining hall, and Snarf could feel the vibration of the floor through the red rug he stood on. The king's tone was not angry, but it _was_ severe, and Lion-O turned and slowly crossed the dining room and climbed back into his seat. "I apologize for leaving the table without being excused," he said. Obedience rang like a cheap, brass bell. The king just shook his head and looked to the captain. The cat had not even bothered looking at Lion-O.

"A letter I take it?"

He nodded. "Shall I read it aloud sire? Or would you prefer to do so in your quarters later?"

The king held out a paw and the cat crossed the room with the envelope in paw and he bowed at the waist. "I'll read it. Thank you." The captain backed away at the dismissal, leaving the dining hall the way he'd come.

Lion-O's torso was perfectly still – his façade was a good one, getting better all the time – but his little feet kicked impatiently. Snarf sighed, and then grinned a little when Lion-O snuck a piece of his dinner down to him, hidden under the table. The table was made of some kind of light, shiny wood, and if Snarf didn't know he'd get into a huge gob of trouble, he would have relished the chance to sharpen his claws on one of the legs. He settled for digging into the piece of carrot he'd been given.

Tygra – seated to the king's right – took a small bite of bread as the king began to read. "The viper clan is being driven back from the colonies with remaining defenses. Two colonies have been overrun, but ninety percent of the population escaped prior to the attacks. We will fortify the remaining colonies and make provision for the refugees as we mount a campaign to reclaim the stolen land. I will send another message in two weeks. Send word of the Atrox case if anything new arises."

Claudus paused and examined the post script. Snarf heard a little amusement as he added, "Jaga also says, 'tell the boys I say hello, and tell Tygra that he assured me he would practice swordsmanship a little less and spend some time reading the sacred writings." Tygra rolled his eyes. Snarf's amusement faded when he also heard, "And remind Lion-O that just because Snarf likes cooked vegetables does not mean Lion-O can skip out of eating them."

Lion-O blushed, and Snarf was disappointed to see him stop passing down carrots. _Old geezer._

"So we're going to beat them, right Father?" Tygra asked. Snarf could catch the scent of excitement as he spoke. Tygra would be a great warrior one day; even now, Snarf could tell it. He had that thirst to grow great, to battle, to win. Claudus nodded and one big paw rested on the tiger's head, ruffling his mane. Tygra grinned before growing serious again. "Are these vipers of the poisonous clans?"

"Some of them, Tygra. That's why I sent Jaga in particular. He was a fighter in his youth, and he has dealt with them before. Not to mention he knows more about poisons than most anyone I can think of." The king lowered the letter to the table and Lion-O watched it. Claudus noticed and handed it down to him. "Are you still practicing your letters, Lion-O?"

He nodded, but instead of reading the letter, Lion-O sniffed it. Catching sight of the weird look Tygra gave him, Lion-O said, "It smells like Jaga."

Snarf put his paws on Lion-O's knees and sniffed the page. Hey, it did smell like old-jaguar-geezer. Tea and parchment and sweat. Loneliness rippled off of Lion-O so hard that Snarf got dizzy. "What's the Atrox case about, Father?" Lion-O asked suddenly.

Claudus paused. Snarf heard the clink of armor and saw that the sentries had looked at each other. "It's nothing that concerns you, Lion-O. Just a murder the guards are investigating."

Lion-O gazed at his plate for a second and Snarf could almost hear him curl back into his own head. "Oh."

Lion-O tucked the letter into his shirt, but halted. "Can I keep the letter, Father?"

"'May' you."

"May I?" Claudus nodded and Lion-O proceeded to fold it into his shirt again. Snarf watched him sniff it one more time and – so quick the others wouldn't see – kiss it before the paper vanished.

* * *

The terror of nearly being murdered and sold as meat was enough to make Snarf wait until his wounds were fully healed before plotting his next escape. But once he was on his feet and the bandages came off, Snarf began to consider all he'd done wrong last time, and how he would set things right this time around. He was nothing if not determined.

Snarf lay quietly on the window sill as the sun warmed his fur and skin. His scratches were nearly gone and his red fur shone. Lion-O had persuaded him to take a bath and then brushed his coat with surprising care for a little boy. Though unpleasant at the time, the bath had felt good when he climbed out, and it was always a treat to be stroked and groomed. Mama did it better of course – she used her tongue, but apparently cats didn't generally do that to one other, let alone their pets – but Lion-O had done pretty well for a cat. He used a small, soft brush for the catallo colts in the paddocks, and tended the most painful tangles with his own claws.

Sneaking out in the middle of the night was a bad idea. It had been dangerous for him and for Lion-O, and even though Snarf was trying hard to convince himself he didn't care too much about Lion-O – as if waking up in the middle of the night in a panic wasn't indicative of his growing concern – the thought of leading him into more danger made Snarf want to freak out. Lion-O was too nice and little and naïve to be in the city; how the heck had Jaga actually left knowing how inquisitive and wild this cub was?

He sighed. Anyway, sneaking out was going to be hard. At night there were more guards milling in the hall, in the courtyard…the canal was left alone as he watched from the window, but there was no way for him to climb down. He lacked the strength to actually climb down the wall, and he couldn't expect to get down without being spotted at some point by the numerous guards now patrolling the courtyard. And the sentries at Lion-O's door wouldn't let him out at night – apparently they were afraid Lion-O would pull another stunt and vanish from under their noses if Snarf went outside. So he peed on one of their feet, showing them one reason a Snarf needed to be able to get outside.

Snarf's tail – the yellow fur had finally grown back – twitched uneasily. He couldn't just up and run off this time. That would be far too cruel. Lion-O was lonely, desperately so. He would have literally no one to play with if Snarf left. Well, save for his brother. But Tygra didn't count; Snarf had come to realize that the tiger's opinion of the prince heir was the same as the guards' – he was a waste of energy and time to look after.

It was pretty cold when your little brother asked you to play tag with him and all you did was catch him, tell him he was "It," and then pick up your studies and climb a tree so he couldn't reach you while you read them. Lion-O had not tried to get up the bark, instead gazing upward at the striped form with those big, quiet eyes and then lowering his gaze.

"Maybe when you're not busy." He could've gotten up the tree. He'd scaled the side of the palace for heaven's sake. But Lion-O knew – with a peculiar, child's understanding – when he was not wanted.

Snarf growled, stretching his legs as his ears lay back in annoyance. Well, that was everyone else's dumb loss. _He _knew better, in spite of his desire to leave. If he didn't have a brother and sisters and Mama of his own, he would have stayed. Was really fighting the Snarf-y urge to stay.

He had to leave soon. He'd never convince himself to go if he didn't get out in time.

Getting out was only half the problem. Once he got outside the wall, he still had no method of finding Mama. Even in the sunlight it would be hard to find her amidst all the places and people and smells. He was only a little Snarf, and it was a big, strange city.

Stretching out his front legs, Snarf shook himself and hopped down from the window. He hadn't seen Lion-O much that day, and tried to remember what the cub had said. Something about…ah, the archives. He'd been going to the sanctuary and the archives within it. Snarf sighed; Jaga had frequented the place of tomes and books and scrolls, and the place smelled like the old cat. Never mind that Lion-O wouldn't be able to read the books, little as he was. For a lonely cub, the place was the nearest he could get to Jaga.

It took him about fifteen minutes to get the clerics' sanctuary to which the library was connected, and it always made Snarf feel tiny and meek when he entered the building. It was large, solemn, and he always felt a little dirty walking in. He knew better than to potty in here, even without being told. There were many clerics in the halls, all robed in white and heads covered by golden masks. A few spared him glances, and one patted his head, which was awfully nice of him. They had all seen Snarf hanging around Lion-O, so they let him pass without hindrance.

The library was not as large as the training room, but every wall was covered by racks and shelves. Each one was stuffed with books and pages and scrolls, and the room was dark save for a few lanterns. The glass of each lantern was misty, making the light pleasantly dim, and the carpet was dark red. Snarf enjoyed the feeling of walking on it even as he tried not to sneeze in the dust of the manuscripts.

It was at one long, low table – there were many carved of gleaming wood with benches, and only a few were taken – that he found Lion-O sitting, looking at a book that was easily Snarf's own weight and size. There was a candle by him, casting gold light over the cub and the paper. Lion-O was sitting on his knees, too short to read on the table if he sat normally. A fat little knapsack rested beside him; his "quest" bag as Lion-O liked to call it. The edges of Lion-O's cloak hung off the bench, fabric pooling around him. Snarf meowed, and Lion-O looked down at him.

"Hi Snarf. I need your help. Can you read?" Snarf cocked his head to the side.

"Some. We used to see papers and stuff in the alleyway, and Mama would read them to us. She didn't want to 'neglect our education.' What's up?"

Lion-O patted the bench beside him and Snarf scrambled up to sit beside him. "I'm trying to figure out what kind of lizard that guy was," Lion-O admitted.

Snarf froze. It had been nearly two weeks since the ordeal, and he'd been so busy trying to figure out how to find Mama that he hadn't thought about the lizard. Well, that, and the fact that the guy wanted them to forget about him entirely. And who was Snarf to go against his orders? "…Why?"

Lion-O shrugged. "Well, I was just thinking. He was nice, and I never said thank you for saving us. I want to talk to him again." He lowered his voice as a cleric strode behind them, swathed in white cloth. "He…he reminded me of Jaga. And I've never actually talked to a real lizard."

"There's a reason for that. A lot of them are bad, and would _eat _us." Snarf's heart was pounding; Lion-O actually wanted to seek out the guy that had warned them never to speak of him? Snarf had sensed no murderous intent about him…but…it was better to be safe than sorry. "I think you should forget him. He said he'll be leaving soon." Lion-O looked shifty, uncomfortable, and Snarf rolled his eyes with realization. "Look, I know you miss Jaga. But that doesn't mean you can run around doing dangerous stuff just because you're lonely. Why don't you…I don't know, try to help me figure out where Mama will be on a map of the city?"

"But see, that's one reason I want to talk to him! He must be a real good tracker if he found us and can figure out where he's going on the rooftops! And I just…"

Lion-O paused and stared at the book. "I get a good feeling about him. Like you did. Even though he was kinda weird."

"Who was weird?" Lion-O jumped and Snarf nearly fell off the bench; both of them looked up sheepishly into Tygra's dark eyes. He could prowl like a grown cat, quiet and observant, and for a second Snarf nearly threw up; if he'd heard about the lizard…

"Um…one of the guards. Snarf peed on him." Lion-O looked as guilty as could be, physically squirming, but while Tygra eyed him skeptically he made no comment on Lion-O's behavior.

"What are you doing here? You can't read well enough to understand any of these books." Lion-O shrugged one shoulder and looked back to his book.

"I'm learning. And I like the pictures." Tygra was tall enough just to sit on the bench, instead of propping himself up on his knees to read the book. He frowned at what he saw, which made Snarf actually look at the entry.

"_A Compendium of Lizards and Their Culture_?" Lion-O shrugged again.

"I don't know much about different kinds of lizards. I thought the pictures looked neat. What are you doing here?" Snarf observed the page and the chameleon drawn on it. The author had obviously been a cat, looking at the paw-penned words; it spoke about how a barbarian group of chameleons had been dealt with most harshly by King Leopold the third more than two hundred years ago. It praised the executions, although Snarf supposed that since these chameleons had apparently been eating cats that wandered through the canyon, it was not a bad thing that they had been killed. Even so, he was glad that tender Lion-O probably couldn't understand the big words. Snarf was intrigued to note that save for a few huge words, he could read most of the entry. Perhaps the Snarf gift of language delved deeper than merely audible sounds.

"I came to get one of the histories of the Scaled Siege." Lion-O stared blankly at him. "Oh, right. Father hasn't given you lessons. Well, there was a siege a long time ago where three lizard tribes banded together to try to infiltrate Thundera's walls. They failed of course. But it was a tough battle, and it took ten days of shooting arrows at them to make them give up. And Father wanted to show me some of the records." Snarf let his eyes linger on Tygra; he was not overtly boasting, but Snarf could detect the pride at being so young and yet being coached by the king in lessons and stories. He truly was a bright kid. The king had been teaching him for years now.

Why the king didn't tell Lion-O stories too, Snarf didn't know. He had apparently been teaching Tygra since he was two – an early talker. If it was meant to make Lion-O feel bad, it worked. That was why he was trying so hard to learn how to read.

Lion-O looked at the book and then at his brother, attention obviously divided. "Why'd they do that?"

Tygra lowered one eyebrow. "Why'd who do what?"

"Why'd the lizards attack?" Tygra seemed to think he was joking until Lion-O continued to gaze at him with solemn, serious eyes.

"Because they hate cats. And they're evil. Those are the only reasons they need." Lion-O frowned.

"All of them are bad?"

Tygra seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, and Snarf noted that he seemed a little unsure before rallying. "Well…yeah."

Lion-O glanced back at the book. "Maybe not _all _of them. Maybe there's one or two nice ones?"

Eyes narrowing, Tygra gave him a suspicious look. "What are you talking about? Why are you asking this stuff all of a sudden?"

Snarf nudged Lion-O. "Just drop it," he whispered. Lion-O opened his mouth and shut it again.

"Never mind. I just heard some stuff about lizards a while ago." Tygra made to get up – to look for the volume, Snarf supposed – but he paused.

"Were they talking about a komodo?"

Lion-O blinked. "…Kuh-moh-doe?"

"Komodo. You said you heard people talking about lizards. If it was guards they were probably talking about a komodo dragon lizard. They think one is loose in the city."

Snarf managed not to let his fur puff up, and Lion-O's expression was blank. "What's a komodo dragon lizard?" Tygra – showing a surprising amount of patience – sat down again and began flipping carefully through the old book.

He stopped on a page and pointed at it. "_That's _a komodo. They're some of the biggest lizards in the world, not to mention some of the strongest warriors. But we've never dealt with them very much because they live really far west and don't mess with people around them. I didn't even believe in them until Father told me they're real. That's why the guards are so nervous. They don't know how to fight them. Not to mention it's scary how they kill."

Lion-O stared down at the picture, and Snarf felt a trickle of cold fear running through him all the way to his tail. The picture matched the lizard they had seen. Even flaky and faint with age, the carefully sketched image was of a tall, broad lizard with a head like a dragon, nude but for a slave's loincloth. It was muscular like a statue, and built completely different from the squat lizards that were brought in as prisoners. "…How do they kill?" Lion-O asked, voice suddenly hushed.

"Well, they're strong and they have big claws. But komodo dragons are dangerous because they have these weird teeth. Apparently they like to eat a lot of raw meat, even if it's rotten, and their mouths get all dirty and poisonous because of it. If one bites you, you're dead in a couple days. Maybe a week if you're healthy. They don't even need their poison, the rotting stuff is so bad."

Snarf fought his shudders. His spine felt like ice was growing on it instead of fur. So the man had spoken the truth. The picture – teeth bared, one beady eye turned toward the reader – suddenly looked more dangerous. Lion-O's eyes were reflective. "And the guards say there's one in the city?"

Tygra eyed the book. "They're not completely sure. But a week and a half ago, apparently some weasel was found really sick and dying. She said she'd been bitten in the foot by someone really tall. The physicians tried taking her leg off to save her, but it was too late. She died because of the infection, and they reported it because it was so weird."

Snarf's stomach churned, nauseated like a green pond with dead fish. The weasel had been evil – anyone who would kill a child and use him for meat and profit was depraved – but…even so…that was a horrible way to die. Lion-O's face was pale beneath his fur, a little sick, kind of like cream. "Maybe…maybe she was a bad lady."

Tygra shrugged. "Apparently she was wanted for thievery and black market trade. But she said the same guy killed her mate, only he broke his neck. They found his body before she came to the physicians for help. Nobody else has a bite like that, except a komodo. That's what the physicians said." He hopped off the bench and tapped the book. "It's a good example of why we fight lizards. They're dangerous. No matter what _kind _they are."

Lion-O sat there, chewing this over. When Tygra showed signs of leaving, Lion-O piped up again. "Aren't you going to read some of the sacred writings?"

Tygra paused a little reluctantly. "Jaga said you were supposed to."

"I've got other things to do. I prefer things I can use and deal with here and now. You know that."

He left then, and Snarf watched him until he picked out a book from one of the less dusty shelves and exited, Lion-O glancing after him. Returning his gaze to the book, Lion-O nibbled his lip.

Snarf thought back to that lizard and shuddered. "So. Maybe we should look for books about Snarfs instead. That'd be less…scary."

Lion-O's little jaw set. "I don't think they're all bad." And when Snarf tried to persuade him to explain what that meant and whether or not he wanted to see the guy again, Lion-O wouldn't quite meet his eye. "Snarf, he seemed to know something about Snarfs. If anybody could help us find your family, it would be that guy."

Snarf bristled in fear and angry worry. "I don't want to see him again, and I _really _don't want you to see him again. It's just so dangerous! Weren't you listening?"

"We already knew about his teeth and the mean lady." Discomfort coiled across Lion-O's mouth and he looked back into the book, studying the picture as if it would tell him something new about the komodo they had seen. "And I'm not only in here to figure out stuff about the lizard," he admitted quietly.

Snarf twitched. "…What are you up to?" His little heart was beating faster and he merely looked at the entries to keep himself calm. That was a bad idea; they were lists of myths and rumors about komodos stealing children in the night to eat them, and eating their own young if they weren't strong. Snarf's stomach rolled at the slaughter described. Lion-O couldn't understand big words like 'carnage' and 'mutilation,' so he just shut the thing. "Nothing interesting in there," he said evasively. Lion-O looked at him curiously, then lowered his head conspiratorially, almost nervous.

"There are lots and lots of guards out now. I told them I'd be in here all day, and they're guarding the only way out for when I leave. And there are lots of clerics here."

They must have loved that. No chance of losing their charge if there weren't any windows. Even if he was ignored, the heir was safely locked inside, which was how everyone liked it best. Snarf licked one paw and began to smooth his face fur. "Okay."

"Snarf…Jaga said once that there are secret passages in and out of the palace. They were built a long time ago in case of war and attacks, but since Thundera's gotten so big and the walls are so strong, nobody really thinks about them much anymore." He paused thoughtfully. "I'd like a secret room. Then I wouldn't have to hide in the bushes when I wanted to play by myself. I could keep stuff I find in it, like treasure."

He hardly had to hide to play by himself. He merely had to play and other cubs would ignore him. Maybe he just wanted to avoid the guards. This oddity aside, Snarf continued grooming himself. "Uh huh."

"But Jaga, um…_told_ me that there are some in the sanctuary too, so clerics can get out to the battlefield even in a…what did Tygra call it?"

Snarf continued licking, reaching his back. He didn't tend to groom elsewhere while in public, and never with his tongue, yuck. That was for swine rats. Snarf knew how to bathe in a pond for _that_. "A siege?"

"Siege, yeah, that's it. And he said," Lion-O's voice dropped lower, "that there's one in the archive room. If we can find it, maybe we can get out to the city(1)."

Snarf stopped mid-lick. Lion cub say _what_? Snarf's brain was a rush of disbelief, and it took a minute to be able to form words. "After what happened last time, you really want to go out there? _Alone_?"

Lion-O fidgeted. "Yeah."

There wasn't much to say to that. Snarf sputtered, snorted, and scratched behind his ear. "I am not going along with this. I don't care how bad I want to find Mama, you're not going out there without protection, and definitely not through secret passages! You're only four, you crazy kid!"

Lion-O jerked and his fur stood on end as if he'd been hit. For a few seconds, Lion-O just looked at him with eyes that were strangely round and sparkly at the corners. His mouth formed a tight line and Snarf tilted his head; was that…water in his eyes? Was he about to cry?

Guilt plunged deep into his stomach, into his gut, and Snarf clambered hastily onto the table and mewled. "Hey…hey, what's wrong? Is it something I said? I'm sorry, whatever it is."

Lion-O just wiped his face roughly with his palms and Snarf smelled salt. Bewildered, he nuzzled Lion-O's cheek. "It's okay. It's just…please don't call me crazy. Lots of people have called me that, and I don't like it."

Snarf stilled. Those bright, pale eyes focused on his. Lion-O blinked, and just a hint of a tear hit his eyelid and rolled down. "…I didn't mean it. You're reckless and kinda silly, but you're not really crazy. Maybe they just…I mean, who said that to you? Maybe they meant it like I did, as a figure of speech." Snarf licked at the drop. Salt bloomed on his tongue.

The sharp little claws tapped against the book, picking at a stray bit of thread along the cover. "They don't say it to me. They say it when they think I can't hear." Lion-O shook his head briskly. "It doesn't matter. We've gotta find your mommy, and I think that guy can help us. And I want to thank him for saving us. I found a map of the city," he added, tugging a paper out from under the hem of his shirt. "That way we won't get lost when we look for your family."

Snarf glanced uneasily over the map, eyes flickering. "I don't know. Lion-O, this is dangerous. Like, _Jaga_ would spank your behind with a _switch_ dangerous. And we don't even know where the passage is."

Lion-O looked to the wall, eyes fixing on one of the lanterns along the wall. Snarf followed his gaze. "…Don't tell me."

"Jaga said it's always a torch or lantern. If you turn it, the door opens." Lion-O tried to look casual as he slid off the bench – and only succeeded in looking completely suspicious – and waited for the clerics to head further into the archives. Then he crept to the wall and looked up at the lantern. "I guess we'll have to try them until we find it."

Snarf groaned. "Why would Jaga tell you something like that, of all people?"

Lion-O shrugged off his cloak – normal for him wear around, considering he liked to pretend he some kind of adventurer, and even liked to grab the hem and jump from small heights to pretend he was a bird upon occasion – and twisted it, hurling one end over the metal bar the lantern hung from. "Okay, so he didn't exactly _tell_ me about them. I heard him talking to Dad about one that had caved in, and he mentioned this one. Can you climb my cloak and try turning the lantern? Hurry, before someone sees."

"_Caved in?" These things "cave in?" _Trying to find a means of protest – other than his logic which had been rebuffed by Lion-O's childish courage, for better or for worse – Snarf sighed loudly and climbed the cloak, trying not to tear holes in it as he clutched the fabric tightly in his little paws. They hit the cool metal and he looked around shiftily – if a cleric saw, would they figure this out? That would force them to stop, but they might get in trouble – and tried turning it.

Nothing. He pushed and twisted, but the lantern just clinked against his claws as if it were laughing. "I guess it's not that one," Lion-O murmured. Snarf climbed back down the cloak and Lion-O slid it over his shoulder. Glancing around the room, Lion-O pointed. "Let's try that one."

They tried several lanterns and none of them worked. If clerics walked by, the two grew still and waited for them to pass before trying again. As each lantern proved to be for naught, Snarf's anxiety gradually began to fade; there was probably no passage at all. Lion-O may have heard wrong, or if there was one it wasn't activated by a light. So it was very calmly that he climbed up the last lantern, in the corner of room hidden by three shelves and tried to turn it in the absence of the clerics.

It clicked and shifted in his paws. Snarf nearly squealed but instead fell back into Lion-O's waiting arms. The cub's face was alight with excitement as they watched the lantern finish turning. "I toldja Snarf, I toldja!" he whispered.

Snarf stared as the brick wall revealed a seam and a portion of it began to slide out of the way like something out of one of the stories Lion-O loved. Anxiety was back. "…Dandy."

It clicked when it fell into place and Lion-O and Snarf both flinched. If a cleric heard, they were in mondo-deep-doo-doo. Snarf peered into the passageway, and flinched as he realized how dark it was. Completely, utterly pitch black. There seemed to be one unlit lantern within. "Lion-O, we'll have to close this before someone sees! And it's dark in there!"

Lion-O scrutinized the opening before walking in, waving a little paw in the entry as if he expected booby traps. "Our eyes'll adjust. We're cats, right?"

"I don't know that a Snarf can be classified as a cat," Snarf admitted. "And we can't see in the complete dark." But in spite of his better judgment, Snarf hauled himself into the opening and looked around. Nothing but a long, blank brick corridor. He couldn't see the end of it, and his fur puffed up in fear at the swallowing dark. It looked like a throat.

"Lion-O, I'm _really _not sure about this! They'll notice we're gone!"

"Nah. They never notice me unless I do something wrong or make a mess. We'll only be gone a little while and then we'll come back. I told the guards I'd be in here all day." Lion-O repeated the motion with his cloak for the cold torch brazier that clung to the wall. "If you can turn this one, maybe it'll shut the door. And then we can use it to open the door when we come back."

Snarf mentally berated himself as he climbed the cloak and cringed at the age and cobwebs on the thing. This was stupid, this was not safe…why the flip didn't the clerics watch this kid better…?

He turned it and the door slid smoothly shut, closing them in darkness.

* * *

Well. Lion-O had been right that, after a while, their eyes got used to the dark enough to be able to see when he was about to walk into a wall. When he was about half an inch from it.

Snarf's poor nose would never be the same shape after this. To prevent him from yowling and squalling every time he bumped into a wall, Lion-O picked Snarf up and carried him, scuffing his feet and kicking what sounded like loose pebbles forward. The sound of the pebbles clacking back toward them warned them when they were about to turn, so Snarf was left to nurse his nose as he sulked in Lion-O's careful arms.

The corridor wound and dipped and angled, and if it hadn't been such a terrifying, _stupid _notion that had lodged itself in Lion-O's head, the whole thing might have been exciting. But Snarf cringed every time they turned, waiting for the sound of panicked, furious guards or clerics, or worse – something slithery and slippery, or anything that crunched underfoot.

But none of those things ever occurred. And though it felt like forever, it could only have been fifteen minutes that had passed before he blinked and saw the darkness become muzzy and a little orange, as if this darkness had not had time to fester and just a smidge of light had warmed it.

Lion-O stopped. "Look."

There was another brazier on the wall. He could see it because there was just the faintest crack in the black brick before them, a tiny seam that was uneven where dust and mortar had probably begun to muck up the entry. Lion-O shrugged off his cloak again, adjusting his knapsack, and Snarf climbed it and halted on the brazier, hesitating. "Once we do this, we gotta go out there, don't we?"

"Yep."

"You really want to do this? I mean, maybe we should just wait. I can figure something out on my own. If anything happens to you, I could never forgive myself. Not to mention Jaga would probably cook me for dinner." Jaga's warning to the captain of the guard came back to him, and he squirmed as he clutched the brazier.

"Come on Snarf, please? I just think we're supposed to do this. And your mommy doesn't know you're alive! That'd be awful, not knowing if your family's okay." Lion-O's plaintive appeal made him shake his head. Snarf bit back his retort that, at this moment, Lion-O's family didn't technically know where _he_ was.

"You, my friend, should have been born a Snarf. You're way Snarfier than I am." He then turned the metal and the corridor seemed to rumble. He stiffened and fell back again, Lion-O catching him as he looked to the door.

_Please don't let it cave in, please don't let it cave in, pleaseohpleaseohplease._

It took a minute, but after a little grinding and the tumbling of dirt, the door slid open and the sudden brightness of the building and stone outside made their eyes ache. Lion-O buried his face in Snarf's fur and Snarf just clapped his paws over his eyes. It took a lot of blinking and about a minute of waiting, but Lion-O finally crept out the doorway and dared to peek around.

They had been let out into the nobles' court and market, it seemed. Snarf barely remembered sprinting through it while his skin was being burnt off, but it was an affluent sector of the city just outside the palace walls. The lizard had easily gotten in by climbing over the roofs and had let them down by the canal, and from here he could see the canal in the distance, glittering where the sunlight hit it.

Snarf looked across the cobblestone ground and realized that they had to move fast; they had come out of the _wall_ of all things. It was shaded, the sun far enough to the west that this spot – the eastern wall – was cool and somewhat hidden. Lion-O hurriedly pulled on his cloak and Snarf jumped straight from his arms to yet another torch that rested unlit beside the door. No doubt they were lit at night for the sentries. He turned it and they watched the door shut, sliding into the wall so perfectly that it was invisible.

"We should mark it," Lion-O said quietly. "So we don't get it mixed up with the other lanterns." Snarf glanced at him and cocked his leg, letting loose with an anxious stream of pee. Lion-O politely turned his head and when Snarf finished, he said, "That's not exactly what I meant. But it works."

"I still think this is a cr-bad idea." Snarf bit back the word "crazy" with some effort and looked up at Lion-O, who had tucked his hood firmly over his red mane and tightened the strap of his knapsack.

"Relax, Snarf. I'm sure we can find him."

"I meant the sneaking out thing. The lizard part is a whole other level of bad idea-ness." Snarf sighed as Lion-O crept away from the wall, toward the market, and toward the stairs that led into the poorer parts of the city. "Why do I bother?"

Snarf was scared to death of losing Lion-O. There were people everywhere, bumping and talking and exchanging wares with sweaty paws, and he was on edge, blood pounding in his head as he fought to keep from dissolving into hysterics. He took hold of the hem of the cloak, but people didn't look where they were going, feetnbopping him around. It got to the point that Lion-O stopped, picked him up, and continued on his way with an incredibly twitchy Snarf in his arms.

Nobody paid any attention to the cub as he dipped and squeezed between them. With his cloak on, hiding his telltale red mane and blue lion's eyes, Lion-O was as invisible in the street as he was in the palace. Snarf was glad, but at the same time it annoyed him. Fur and smells and tails whisked against them with the flow of the people, and Snarf just hid his face against Lion-O's neck, making him wiggle.

"Your whiskers are tickling me." Just to prove he was still upset by this venture, Snarf nuzzled his neck a little more until Lion-O squirmed again. "Quit it!"

"Hey you're with a Snarf. I don't care what books say, adventures are dangerous and scary." He peeped over Lion-O's shoulders, keeping his ears perked as he hunted for any untoward motions or eyes.

The sunlight seemed to have burnt them away. He saw no sign of crime or sneakiness. Well, okay, there was a cat picking someone's purse, but that aside. He winced when the "victim" whirled around and slapped the would-be thief in the face. A small crowd rushed across his vision and he returned his gaze to the road. "So…you really think you can find that lizard?"

Lion-O paused beside an aged wall, and Snarf shifted so he could pull out the map he'd hidden. A whiff of something like Jaga tickled his nose, and Snarf realized that Lion-O also had the letter still stashed in there. "The palace is here," Lion-O stated, pointing at a spot on it. Snarf nodded. "I kinda remember that we had to go over a really stinky place in the slums before we got to the fancy places, and then he got us to the wall. So once we find a stinky place, we'll have to find the building that's all boarded up."

"We're close to the slums." Snarf pointed at a couple of dogs that were traipsing along the road and wrinkled his nose. "No offense, but they _smell_ like the slums."

Lion-O tailed them for a few minutes, scanning their surroundings. "Look for a building with boarded windows. Remember?"

Frankly, there were a lot of other things Snarf was more interested in looking at. Alleyways with nests – never Snarf nests – drew his attention and he tried to distinguish all the odors he was catching. Cheap bread, overripe fruit, stale pastry, foot odor, sweat, doo-doo…he covered his nose for a second.

Lion-O had stopped, and Snarf looked around to find out why. He was staring at a boy about his own age, lying on the ground by the road. The boy's feet were wrapped in dirty bandages, and everybody was careful to skirt around him. Some kind of darkly-furred dog, his side rose and fell shallowly, and his yellow eyes followed people wearily as they walked by. Lion-O looked up and watched people ignore him. "Why doesn't somebody ask if he's okay?"

"Because they know he's not. He's a cripple, Lion-O. He can't walk, so that means he can't work. He's what people call a beggar; he asks for money and food because he can't get it himself."

Lion-O frowned, and Snarf felt a wall of pity and unhappiness rush over him. "But there are cats who can't walk either. And they can do work like translating old papers and writing letters and stuff! Why can't he do that?"

"He might not know how to."

"Why doesn't somebody teach him? Jaga's teaching me." Lion-O was nothing if not stubborn.

"He's a dog. No cat would want to hire a dog for anything other than labor, and most of the dogs in the city can't read Thunderan very well, if at all. A cat wouldn't want to teach one." Snarfs had to be wise about the world, and Mama had told him many such things. He noticed that the pores on the dog's face were dark, and he looked sweaty. "Some people aren't very nice, Lion-O. And the people that are can't help everyone. It's sad, but there's not a lot we can do."

Lion-O's face was troubled, deeply so. "…But he's hungry."

It was a hard thing to explain to a little boy that there was nothing to be done. "Well, unless you've got money or food, we can't help him." Lion-O glanced at Snarf and then set him down gently, opening his knapsack. Snarf was surprised to see him pull out a little clay jar of berries and what smelled like bread, wrapped in thin paper. Snarf peeped into the bag; a few more items were wrapped and packed snugly in there. Lion-O readjusted the strap and hung it on his side before skirting close to the pup, who lifted his head a fraction, nose quivering.

Shyly, Lion-O put the jar and the bread into the boy's paws, and the dog sniffed at the items. Snarf watched nervously as he cocked his head and smiled. His teeth were all crooked. And when the dog licked Lion-O's cheek, Snarf nearly died of embarrassment. Cats didn't do that, and if his reaction was the same as anyone else's, he'd be rude and throw a fit.

Lion-O touched the spot the boy had licked. "Why did you lick me?"

The dog – realizing his mistake – hunkered down, ears flopping back in terror. "I'm sorry. I didn't notice you were a cat. It's…it's how dogs say 'thank you.'"

Lion-O rubbed his face thoughtfully and asked, "How do you say 'you're welcome?'"

"You lick back. On the other side of the face."

After a moment's consideration, Lion-O sat down, leaned forward and licked the dog's cheek, who seemed quite stunned at the gesture. Lion-O touched his tongue; there were a few dark hairs stuck to it. He looked at the pup, and the pup looked at him.

They both started laughing and Snarf shook his head. _When am I gonna remember that this kid isn't like everybody else?_

"You're the first cat to ever do that." The dog sniffed him several times. "You smell clean. You live someplace fancy," he stated. "What are you doing here?"

"Me and Snarf are looking for Snarf's family. Have you seen anything like him?" Lion-O pointed at Snarf, who waved a little paw. The dog sniffed him, sneezing afterwards.

"No…I haven't. I haven't smelled anything like him either. But I can't move from here, so that just means they're not close." The pup patted Snarf's head, and in spite of the dirty feeling of his paw, it was a sweet gesture.

Lion-O looked down the street. "Is there a building around with boarded up windows? It should be attached to a fancy, bigger building."

"Um…yeah. If you keep following this street you should see the old laborer's quarters. Lizards and dogs used to live in them before the owners moved away and took the households with them. But nobody lives there now." The dog unwrapped the paper around the bread and began to nibble at it. "This is good."

To Snarf's relief, Lion-O did not mention the lizard. He only nodded and said, "Thanks for your help. I hope your feet feel better someday."

"You and me both." Snarf knew that, barring a miracle, that pup would never walk. But to explain that to Lion-O…no. Sometimes it was just better to leave well enough alone. They left the boy, and Snarf looked up at his tiny owner when they were out of earshot.

"That was a good idea, bringing food. It might persuade people to help us if we have something to trade."

Lion-O looked surprised. "I didn't give it to him for that. He just looked hungry. I brought food because it seems like, in every adventure story, the hero oughta remember to pack something to eat because he never knows when he's gonna be able to get more supplies(2)."

Snarf cocked his head. This street was quieter, moderately less stinky, and the earthy ground muffled the sound of their feet as they passed old brick and buildings. "Huh. That's a good idea. Hope we never have to go on any more adventures myself, but…"

He crashed into the back of Lion-O's ankles and plopped back on his behind. "Sorry Snarf. But I think we found it." Snarf leaned so he could see around Lion-O, recognizing the ramshackle building and the wood nailed across each window.

Snarf frowned. "Lion-O…I have to tell you one more time that I really, really, really think we shouldn't bother this guy. I know you think he's not bad, and…okay, I don't think he's bad either. But this isn't safe. And anyway, that guy won't go to the door. He probably keeps it locked all day and hides. Considering he's a _lizard_," Snarf added in a hiss. Lion-O glanced about the street from under his hood, checking to see if the people in the road and pulling carts were watching.

Deciding that they were not, Lion-O beckoned to Snarf, who reluctantly followed him as he crept into the alley beside the ramshackle building. "And let's not forget that this might be some other boarded up house. It might be the wrong place."

In this thin, dank little alley, Snarf noted that there were bricks that stuck out from the wall, old and chilly to the paw. The man had climbed up a smooth wall with his long, sharp claws; it would be easy for him to climb these.

Lion-O put his paws to the bricks, and to Snarf's horror he began climbing. "Wait! Wait a minute! That would make him so mad if we – Lion-O-!"

He grabbed the hem of Lion-O's cloak in his mouth. The cub stopped, clinging to the wall, and when he looked down at Snarf his face was set. "Do you want to find your family or not?"

Snarf released the cloak in surprise. Lion-O's voice was low, and almost a little annoyed. "You said before you couldn't smell anything bad about him. But when you smelled that mean lady, you knew she was super bad, even though you didn't know her. If he were bad, you would have known. That's what Snarfs do."

He didn't move up or down the awkward bricks, little claws clutching the uneven surface easily. "Look. It's either ask this guy for help or wander around the whole city by ourselves. We'll _never _find them that way." Snarf shifted uncomfortably. At last, he slowly clambered up Lion-O's cloak until he was on the cub's shoulders, clutching at his mane.

"Let the record show that I still think this is a really bad idea. But your point is taken." Lion-O continued up the wall, and Snarf bobbed with his motions, heart pounding like quick footsteps.

Somehow the cub managed to reach the roof, and he splayed himself on his tummy to steady himself before getting to his knees and crawling over the dirty, stony shingles. Snarf felt anxious excitement prickling in his toes; there was a gap in the roof, and Snarf hopped off of Lion-O's shoulders, feeling the warmth of the sun radiating off the stone.

Crawling across the surface, Lion-O peeped down into the hole, and Snarf followed suit after debating with himself.

The lizard was sitting right beneath the opening, eyes shut and breathing slowly. If he hadn't been sitting up Snarf might have thought he was asleep. He wasn't wearing the many folds of cloth that had concealed him last time – bare but for a pair of black breeches that covered his lower stomach and legs, a cloth strap serving as a belt – and Snarf was interested to see that he was a dusky, dusty brown, and his belly was just a tad lighter. He was very muscular, broad across his shoulders and built to brawl. And his stomach and chest seemed rather longer than Snarf would have expected, lending a lean grace to his body. And curled around him was a long, tapering tail, as long as he was tall. The tip flicked contentedly and Snarf cocked his head, wondering why he hadn't noticed that before.

He looked absolutely like the komodo in the picture. Except for the fact that he appeared peaceful and calm, and he simply seemed to be soaking up some sun.

Lion-O rested his chin on the rough shingles. "Wow, your tail is really long."

The eyes shot open, nearly mad with shock, and Snarf was terrified to see him open his mouth and bare his teeth. They were strangely small in his pale pink gums from this distance, but every inch or so he saw a bright, gleaming tooth sticking out like a blade. His face wrinkled in anger, but the hiss was cut short when Lion-O squeaked and covered his face with his paws. Snarf nearly fell from the roof, but clung to the edge of the gap, hind feet scrabbling against the broken, splintery edges. Lion-O dragged him close and Snarf could feel his little heart racing and the warmth of nervous sweat through the fabric of his tunic.

"What…what…?" The smoky voice was weak and his eyes were huge. If he hadn't scared Snarf so badly he might have looked funny. He stood up and it struck Snarf again how very _big _he was. Tall as Claudus, his build was slinkier, and he cocked his head in disbelief. "Lion, get down! If anyone sees you I will be ripped to pieces!"

Lion-O shifted so his feet hung into the room, and Snarf buried his claws in the fabric of his cloak as the komodo reached up and – with the air of one handling some volatile, delicate concoction – took Lion-O gently into his paws and lowered him to the floor. Lion-O openly stared. "Wow…your scales look neat in the sunlight. Are they like armor? If you get hit, does it hurt?"

"What are you doing here?" The hissing voice was flat, unfriendly. Lion-O appeared not to notice this, looking around the room now that it was sunny.

"Snarf can't find his mommy. And I thought maybe you would help find her, since you seemed to know a little about Snarfs. And I wanted to say thank you for helping us." He took off his hood and had to tilt his head all the way back to look up at the draconic face. Snarf glanced around the room, taking in its dusty interior and grungy walls. One blocky crate in the corner was all that rested in the upper floor. Oh, why had he let Lion-O talk him into this…?

The komodo's jaw dropped, hanging. Lion-O peered at him. "Wow! Your tongue has two points?"

"…It is called a 'forked tongue.'" He looked up at the sky again and closed the gap, sliding the covering almost into place but leaving a faint sickle of light, enough so they could see. Perhaps he feared another cub would pop up out of nowhere. "I do not have any idea what you were thinking, or how you found me. This is not safe, and you should never have come here," the lizard said coldly.

Lion-O squirmed but stood his ground, the sliver of sunlight making his fur gleam like brass. "I remembered the houses we passed when you carried us. And I remembered what this place looked like. Don't worry, I didn't tell anybody. And we've _gotta _find Snarf's mommy and brother and sisters."

The lizard was practically bug-eyed, Snarf realized that a lot of that probably sounded like inane babble.

"…You come to _me_ for aid. A lizard you met once, in a dangerous place. You believe that I am a better source for whatever help it is you need than cats." The komodo did not ask, simply sounding wry. "Ask the guards; they may find the imps. Go home and pretend I am not here."

"But they won't! Snarf says that his family stays away from cats because lots of cats are mean to them, so they'd never go to a guard. I gotta go find them with Snarf, I understand them. And Snarf can't remember the way back to his alleyway," Lion-O added, looking at Snarf, who merely sat down in despair. This dangerous venture would prove all for naught, and he didn't blame the komodo at all for looking at Lion-O like he was kooky. This guy didn't know about Snarf, didn't know about how worried Mama must be, or even – Snarf only realized now – how hard Lion-O must have worked to figure out a route out to the city.

"This is utter madness. Do you not see the problem with this? You are a prince of cats, heir to the throne, and you are coming to a _lizard_ of all things for aid! You sneak out of your safe home with this imp," here he gestured to Snarf, "to scour an unsafe city for its family? There are more beings like those weasels out there and _worse_. A cub alone is not safe, even in the daylight in some parts of the city. Thundera is no gleaming utopia…it is worse than my own home city. There at least the species live in peace. Raucous peace, but peace all the same."

Lion-O – to Snarf's chagrin – bumped up against the scaly side the way he would against Jaga. It was a sign of trust and comfort, but the komodo flinched, as did Snarf. "That's why I need your help. You helped us before; will you help us now?"

Words bubbled in the back of the long throat, foreign language – rocky and clicking with the tongue – as if he were debating with himself. It was too fast for Snarf to understand, though he thought he caught something about, "Wild children raised by a lunatic people." Aloud he said, "I helped before because I had no other option. I would be bloody as the murderers if I did nothing." He ran the tip of his tongue over his dry mouth, pupils widening a little as they adjusted to the darker room. "What about the cleric Jaga? You say he is your friend. Does he not seek to help the imp? Snarf as you call them."

Lion-O's face fell and the komodo cocked his head. "Jaga left to go check on the colonies. He won't be back for a long time. I'd ask him if I could."

"Well…what about the king? Surely he could send somebody with you."

Lion-O suddenly looked a little scared, incredibly nervous. Eyes wide, he shook his head. "I…I can't ask Dad for help with this. He'd just tell Snarf to go on his own. He doesn't…like Snarf very much. And Dad's really tough and strong, so thinks people should just get tough. If something happened to Snarf, Dad would just say he wasn't strong enough."

The eyelids drooped over the dark irises, tip of a pointed tongue resting between the thin lips. "Hmph. Not so different from my ancient ancestors, then. You do not agree I take it?"

Lion-O shook his head, and suddenly tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes. The komodo seemed taken aback and shifted uncomfortably. "Please? Snarf's my friend, and I've gotta help him. If I were older I'd do it myself, but I'm not smart enough to figure out where they are. If I've gotta say goodbye, I want to know he's with his mommy."

Snarf's stomach heaved with guilt. Lion-O wanted him to stay, he knew. And even so, he was trying to help find Snarf's family just to help _him_. The thought had not hit him until just then, and when it did it was painful. This whole dangerous escapade was for _him_.

_Maybe I can come visit him sometimes,_ Snarf thought. His conscience was soothed by the tiniest little bit.

The lizard's tail rasped against the floor. He tilted his head and flicked his tongue. "I am sure I do not want to know how you got out of the palace."

"Nope. If you've got secrets, I do too." Lion-O's smart reply seemed to amuse the lizard. For a while the komodo paced from one side of the room to the other, eying Lion-O with a strange mixture of calculation and nerves. Lion-O's lower lip bobbed once before he steeled his face. "If you don't help, I'm going to look with Snarf and it'll be just us two."

This visibly disturbed the komodo and his brows angled uncertainly. The idea did not seem to sit well with him, and he clicked his teeth.

"…If I say yes…I would like to ask you something."

Snarf's fur stood up. Lion-O's ears pricked with interest. "I am in this city for a very important and secret reason. All I would like you to do is try to remember something." The dark eyes shuttered under the eyelids, pupils wide in the cool shade. "Amongst the guards, have you heard tell of komodo dragons?"

Lion-O looked at Snarf, whose suspicion was shivering all through his body. He _still _sensed no evil, but…well, that didn't sound right. "Well…my brother said they're talking about one. I think it's you; they found the mean guy and lady. She…she died because she got sick." He shivered and the komodo lowered his gaze almost abashedly.

"I feel regret for taking a life. But I do not regret protecting a child by doing what was necessary." He tilted his head, long neck serpentine as he opened his eyes a little wider. "But what of any others?"

Lion-O shook his head. "I don't think so. Why are you asking?"

"What happened to keeping secrets?" The komodo looked wry but at last continued, "…I have lost friends, and I merely wish to know if they are here. That is all. I have no desire to harm anyone. And as a prince in the palace, you would be more likely than me to hear the guards speak of war prisoners."

Lion-O's face fell. "'War prisoners?' You mean…bad guys?"

The lizard sighed. "Not exactly. The komodos have no quarrel with the cats, but unfortunately your people do not distinguish between one lizard and another, save for how best to fight them. Some komodos traveling outside of our land have gone missing. I merely wish to know if they are here or not."

Snarf sniffed hard, nose twitching. There was still no darkness, no greasy deception. Mystery, yes. But his Snarf-y senses could detect no wickedness about the komodo.

"…I don't wanna do anything bad. Do you _promise _you're not doing something bad?"

Trusting Lion-O. So quick to try to help, no matter what the consequences might be. Snarf sniffed as hard as he could and growled. The komodo lowered his gaze to Snarf and knelt. His head was still a foot above Lion-O's, and he ducked to look between the two. The dark eyes were oddly pretty, and Snarf's nose wrinkled as he continued to growl. "I have heard tales of Snarfs, though we call them 'imps.' The elders of my city told children stories of them, and all the tricks and good deeds they did. They say that you can detect evil. Do you sense such ill intent in me?"

"No. But I don't trust Lion-O's safety to just anybody." Lion-O translated and the komodo grinned. Snarf wished he wouldn't; the sharp, creepy little teeth glittered in his gums.

"You are a very wily creature. He is blessed to have such a defender. He is utterly innocent in the matter I am here for." He paused and seemed to make up his mind, nostrils flaring wearily. Shame burst in a hot wave over Snarf, and he was surprised to realize it came from the komodo. "I will help you. After we find the imp's mother, I am taking you home." He snorted. "I am an idiot for this."

Lion-O's face lit with joy. "You mean it? Yay!" The cub jumped and hugged the crouched komodo round the neck, making him sputter in shock. "I knew you were good, I knew it! Now we'll find your mommy, Snarf!"

"Great, great…now let go of him, he's freaking out." Snarf's heart had lifted, but to see the komodo stare at Lion-O's tuft of red mane with a perturbed expression made Snarf tug at Lion-O's cloak again.

"You are very odd for a lion cub." The komodo tapped his claws uneasily against his hip.

Lion-O let go and hopped in place. "Come on, come on! We've gotta find her, Snarf says the last time she saw him was when the cart was taking him away!"

Rather than questioning this nonsensical statement, the lizard stood up and stepped around him. Snarf – tiny and pudgy as he was – could not help but notice that there was a slippery grace to the way the body's motion rippled from nose to tail tip. It was just as he would have imagined in a storybook; all he needed was a pair of translucent wings and he'd make a fine, fire-breathing dragon. The komodo paused and began looking through the crate resting in the corner of the room. From it he pulled a length of dark cloth and draped it over his head. The shirt covered his arms and torso, and another blot of clothing was a hood drawn up, cloak dangling around him. He paused and took hold of his tail and – to Snarf's surprise – shifted his breeches so he could wrap it around his waist several times. Pulling the breeches back up, he tightened the strap around his waist and began pulling on gloves and foot coverings.

_He wrapped his tail around his waist and hid it in his clothes last time too,_ he realized. It made sense of his very odd gait the other night; it would have thrown off his balance. No wonder Snarf hadn't noticed it. Last of all came a mask; unlike the one from nights ago, this one looked like a very ugly cat's face. Snarf sniffed and smelled cat fur on it – very old, dried fur.

He bit down on his tongue; it had been dead for some time, but that mask had once been the face of a living cat.

The fur was gray and white, like charcoal and pale stones. Lion-O stared at the gnarled, shaggy mask.

_ Why doesn't this guy smell like a bad guy? Maybe he…found a dead cat. A bad one. And used its skin for a disguise. But a cat _skin_ is so…barbaric._

Head swimming, Snarf stared at Lion-O's brass-colored kitten fur and the pale, soft fur of his face, neck and paws – and imagined them as limp, dry skins – and nearly puked.

"…Why don't you wear the other one?"

"Because," the komodo began, reaching into the crate and proceeding to rub what appeared to be more cat fur against his clothing, "If I am to travel in daylight, I must be well enough disguised that guards will not be able to sniff me once and detect I am a lizard. The wooden mask was sufficient for the night; not so for the day. The imp can tell what I truly am, I am sure," he said, nodding toward Snarf, "but cat senses are not so sharp as those of lesser beasts. Or dogs, for that matter. Cats cannot hold a candle to dogs when it comes their noses."

Lion-O bobbed up to the komodo's side, sniffing him. "You smell like salty cat." Snarf nearly swooned.

"A dog would not think so. He would think I smell like a reptile wrapped in hair. That is why we must avoid them as much as possible. They might know something is amiss." With a flick of his tongue – from between the gap of the cat's lips, _yuck_ – he lowered a paw. "I do not want to lose you on this mad errand."

Looking over the fur, Lion-O murmured, "It…is it real? Real cat fur?"

"Yes. I found it in the desert on my way to Thundera. It is nearly a month old; I suspect the heat of the sands was simply too much for him and lizard forces skinned the corpse for sport and left it behind. I knew I would need a disguise, so I took the fur." The komodo lowered his head a little, eyes hooded. "I am not proud of it. But it was the only option I had. And if it is used to save innocent lives, I would not begrudge the use of my own hide to do so."

Nodding, Lion-O seemed set at ease. "I see. Will you give the fur a funeral later? With the prayers and everything? Jaga says it's always good to say prayers for the family of whoever died at a funeral. "

The lizard cocked his head. "I think that is a good idea. I will pray when I cremate it according to your customs." He extended the paw again.

Lion-O happily placed his paw in the komodo's, and peered upwards as the other clawed paw was used to adjust the hood over the furry mask. From a distance, and if he kept his head down, the lizard looked like a tall, ancient cat hunched over. A very ugly one. "Do not talk to strangers. Give me a moment."

Snarf's whole world went gray and speckled, vision flickering out; the komodo had picked him up, and the feeling of those claws tight around his middle made him wonder how much it would hurt if the lizard decided to dice him up, right then and there. And then – horror of horrors – the pale tongue flickered out, towards himself, brushing the very tip of his nose. Snarf forced himself not to faint, chest heaving and tail thrashing. He could see his own terrified reflection in the komdo's eyes beyond that awful, crusty mask and the eyeholes cut into it.

The komodo flicked his tongue twice more and then suddenly tossed Snarf up toward the roof, knocking the covering out of the way. "I have his scent. Come, let us go." He darted upwards, slinging Lion-O gently up toward the gap in the roof and then following. He covered the gap again and picked Lion-O up, skulking along the roof until he could climb down the wall with Lion-O on his shoulder and Snarf clinging to Lion-O's hooded head. They reached the ground without noise, and he murmured, "Before you ask, no, the rooftops would not be safer. People would see me in the sunlight and know something is wrong."

Lion-O looked distinctly impressed. "That's exactly what I was gonna ask! How'd you know?" Snarf hurried after Lion-O's feet, tripping a little over toes tingly with fear as the lizard drew him from the alleyway.

_Maybe he's a good guy. But he's scary. _He offered no answer to Lion-O's question. Peering around the corners at the quiet street, filthy and sparsely populated as it was, the komodo made certain to tuck his hood down further to hide his false face. As he did his, he flicked his tongue several times, ducking his head.

"Hm. I think…yes. Come." He tugged at Lion-O's paw and – with the gait of an old cat walking with a grandchild – began the trek down the street.

Snarf miserably climbed Lion-O's side and just held on to his neck, letting Lion-O pet him. The nervous worry was getting to him in a big way, and he wished they had just found Mama already and he was just home instead of wandering around with a lizard and a four-year-old brave to the point of lunacy.

_Just wait, Mama. I'm on my way. Even if these guys are a little kooky._

"Hey Mister?" Lion-O was looking at the lizard, who nudged him so he would duck his head again to hide his blue eyes. The dogs and other animals in the dirt road did not bother looking up at them, though to Snarf's chagrin, there were a number of flying, buzzing insects that swarmed from the dogs to them, perhaps attracted by the scent of salt. He hid his face against Lion-O's cloak and tried to shut out the noise of the tiny gnats.

"What?"

"Why do you do that thingy with your tongue? You know." Lion-O stuck his tongue out.

"It is how I smell. My nose works well enough, but my tongue can…oh, how to say it…catch tiny things on it and I can taste them and track them. Like…little bits of hair and such from an imp. It is a strange method, but it is how my senses work."

Lion-O looked awed. "Wow…you smell with your tongue, Mr. Komo-"

"Hush." The word was snapped, and Lion-O shut his mouth. Hurt crackled over him. "No one must hear that word. They will panic. Do not call me that."

There was silence for a minute, and Snarf kept glancing up to see where the ugly mask was looking, and if the clawed paw was still securely gentle around Lion-O's fingers.

"Keigo." The word came suddenly and made Lion-O tilt his head.

"Huh?"

The tiny nostrils flared and with a steaming sigh, the komodo said, "My name. It is Keigo. If we are to seek the imp's family, I suppose you must call me something. It may as well be my name. Not that you ought to mention it to anyone," he added pointedly. Lion-O's stung hurt dissipated in the joy of being told such a secret.

"Kay-go?"

"'Keigo.' The 'g' is softer in my language." Keigo. Somehow, attaching a name to this hulking creature made him seem a little less mysterious and savage. Snarf still eyed him carefully. "Okay. I like it. And that's cool, how you can smell with your tongue," Lion-O whispered. "Can I learn to do that?" He stuck out his tongue and then drew it back in instantly, hacking. "I think I swallowed a bug."

Pressing his free paw to his brow, Keigo shook his head. "I am going to regret this."

One bug bit Snarf in the back and he only buried his face in Lion-O's cloak again.

If he found Mama, these ventures were over and…and…Lion-O would have to go back with Keigo, who would see him safely home, right? And then Lion-O would behave and stay safe…and lonely. His Snarf-y urges jabbed at his insides with guilt.

_Maybe I'll go back with him to make sure he gets back okay, and then go back with Mama. Yeah, that'll work. Jaga will be back in a few months and it'll all be okay. Lion-O will be fine on his own, right?_

Another bug nipped at Snarf's behind, and he couldn't help but feel as if it were scolding him.

* * *

It took an hour of skulking, sniffing, tongue-flicking and muttering, but Keigo led them through alleys and streets with dogged determination. He followed his strange and winding route, showing his tongue only when he was sure no one was looking, and shuffling his feet wearily to look more like an old cat.

Once he stiffened and hunkered down beside a pile of garbage, bringing Lion-O with him as they ducked beside some inn. "Be silent."

Snarf was too busy trying to hold his nose against the stink of rotten melon shells to pay much attention, but two guards stalked past them, muttering to each other. He caught one bit of dialogue.

"-dangerous, considering they're still not sure where the victim is-"

And then they were gone, Keigo and Lion-O staring after them as Snarf covered his poor nose.

Lion-O seemed to be having a ball with the whole mysterious disguise thing. Snarf knew it was not all a game to him, but Lion-O was a cub, and as such he would find adventure and enjoyment in anything if only he was with someone. The fact that the someone was a lizard did not affect him in any way.

Snarf just heaved between excitement and fear. What if Mama wasn't where Keigo was leading them? What if he was tricking them? What if she _was _and was very angry at him for running off and getting caught in the cart? What would become of Lion-O finding his way back home with a dangerous lizard without Snarf and his instincts to protect him?

_Calm down. We_ are _looking for her. _Mama_ will know what to say. She's smart, she'll figure this out._

That thought soothed him more than any other. After all, even if Mama was mad at him, he was her baby; she would love him and be happy to see him again, right? Of course. Any good parent would. And Mama would probably think of a way to help Lion-O too, perhaps letting Snarf sneak in to visit him once she knew he was safe and that Lion-O was a nice cat. Mind operating like this, he was rather cheerful when Keigo stopped and touched Lion-O's head.

"Here. I smell imps. It is not strong, and it is blocked by other odors, but…"

Heart jumping, Snarf mewed and jumped from Lion-O's arm. He sniffed and nearly gagged at the odor of garbage.

It was his alleyway all right. There was the oak crate that was so warm when Mama lined it with torn rags and blankets and let them snuggle up to her. There was the bin of glass pieces and old bottles that glittered when the sun hit it just right and reflected back all their Snarf-y faces and grins when they played with them. There was also a lot of litter and rotten food in there. That struck him as odd; Mama always got rid of nasty smelling things.

Snarf meowed. "Mama! Mama, I'm back! These guys are okay! Come out!"

Nothing. He sniffed. "I _know _this is the alleyway. I remember all this stuff. And there's the nest-!"

Snarf rooted through the garbage in order to stare into the crate, shifting the trash so he could see the entrance and the cozy, snuggly nest inside.

His tail stood up. Something dark and furry was moving in there, but it didn't look like a Snarf. His nose quivered; he could smell blood. It was from days ago, but…

"…Mama?"

In the dark, gnarly nest, the creature turned and squealed in anger, little tusks glinting by the dirty snout. Snarf stiffened at the tiny red eyes, reflective and glassy, glinting with a slimy sheen where the light hit them. The swine rat's curly tail lashed, and it hurled itself toward him.

Snarfs have a gift with language. They can understand all animals and talk to the lesser species of Third Earth along with the pure of heart. But the only thing he heard from the creature was, "_Mine, mine! Go away, go away!_"

It was big and fat, Snarf-sized at least. He yelped and backed up, squalling. "Lion-O! Lion-O, it's a swine rat! Don't let it bite you!"

Lion-O jumped forward and scooped Snarf up, dancing backwards when the rodent hissed, unprepared to face a foe so much bigger than itself. But Lion-O was scared; the creature's nose quivered, glistening, and it darted toward the one invading its territory, detecting his tremors.

And then Keigo's large body was blocking the alleyway, coming between the swine rat and Lion-O. Snarf's chest heaved as he listened to Lion-O's heart, clutched tight to his chest, and his stomach rolled when he saw Keigo stoop and the rodent screamed.

Snarf shut his eyes and buried his face against Lion-O's neck. Other than the sound of tiny bones snapping and a large gullet swallowing wetly, there was no indicator of what happened to the swine rat. But it was enough, and Snarf felt woozy. "I'm gonna hurl," he whispered.

It took fifteen seconds before he had the guts to open his eyes and look back toward Keigo. By that time the komodo was completely finished, and he licked the rim of his mouth to finish cleaning it, head pitched back to swallow more easily. Lion-O's heart was a rush, and his paws were sweaty as he said, "…You just…swallowed it. In one gulp."

Keigo drew his hood up again and fitted the mask in place. "That is how komodos eat food. We do not chew."

Snarf nearly passed out when Lion-O rubbed his cheek against Keigo's side, and the stiffening of the lizard made it evident he was just as uncomfortable with the gesture. "Do you think there are any more?" he whispered, burying his claws in the fold of the baggy breeches.

Keigo hesitantly lifted his chin. Snarf did the same, leaning away from Keigo as much he could as he sniffed the air. The komodo flicked his tongue several times, pausing and considering. "Does the imp smell any? I cannot detect any more."

Lion-O merely stroked Snarf's ears. "Tell him I can't smell or hear any." Lion-O repeated this and Keigo grunted.

"It would seem it was a very small nest." The big form knelt and stuck his head down toward the crate. He flicked that long tongue again, beady eyes opening and shutting several times. "Imp, come here. I wish to speak to you."

Snarf wriggled free of Lion-O's arms and padded uneasily over the ripped papers and straw of the alley. He poked his head into the crate, but felt a clawed paw come to rest on his back. His fur stood up and he squeaked at the feeling of scales, but Keigo's breath was warm and smelled of rodent when he spoke softly. "Imp. I do not know how to say this, but…I think at least one member of your family met their end here."

The words were nearly hissed, the lowest of whistles. Lion-O was watching them, fidgeting, glancing around for more swine rats or worse, cats. Snarf digested the words slowly, and his stomach began to sink, as if there were a hole beneath him that was sucking him into it, tummy first. Keigo flicked his tongue again, and this time Snarf didn't flinch, even when the stench of foul meat hit him. "The blood there is not of a swine rat. It is a few days old, and the smell of your kind is in it."

Snarf nudged some of the straw aside, wrinkling his nose at the smell of swine rat feces. Greasy paper strips from wrapped, rotten meats, bits of moldy food…no self-respecting Snarf would keep a nest so nasty. And that blood…there was so much of it, and there were red hairs in it…

Snarf's head whirled and he felt Keigo's paw under his belly, lifting him gently. "What's wrong with Snarf?" Lion-O called. The distress in his voice made Snarf's ears twitch. "Isn't his mommy there?"

Keigo moved him and Snarf felt Lion-O's soft arms wrap around him, cuddling him close to that gentle heart. "No. We…do not know where she is. This was his nest. Perhaps…the imp's family has moved on. If she thought more harm would come to her young, his mother would have moved the other kits as soon as she could."

"But she'd come back for Snarf! A mommy wouldn't leave her baby!" Lion-O insisted.

Snarf smelled that blood again, and thought of the swift, slick motions of the swine rat. How easy it would be for an unsuspecting Snarf to be attacked from behind, returning to her nest in hopes of finding-

Snarf whimpered. Keigo lowered his head and stroked Snarf's back. The motion was surprisingly tender; it was the motion of a stranger comforting an upset child. A warm smell of something reminiscent of soup and sorrow rolled from Keigo. "…You are right, Lion-O. A mother would not abandon her baby. Perhaps she is still looking. But we should not stay here. It will do no good." The komodo replaced his hood and mask, tongue flicking again. "That is not to say, though, that the kits are not still somewhere in the city, Snarf."

Lion-O's gentle paws patted Snarf's ears, and he listened dully, hanging limp. His siblings might be alive; that was good.

_Right now they might be waiting for Mama. And she might not be coming back. What if they're hungry, or scared, or locked up? _

Maybe the blood was just from a scratch. Maybe the swine rat had just driven her off, and…and maybe she was okay. Maybe.

_Too many "maybe's."_ Snarf shook his head. Falling apart right now wasn't going to help anyone…and he really didn't _know _if…if Mama was…

The blood rankled in his nose, and Lion-O shifted him to one arm to hold Keigo's paw again. Keigo tugged up Lion-O's hood almost tenderly. "Keep your mane covered. I am taking you home. There is no point in continuing the search. I will keep my eyes and ears open for news of the imp's family." He seemed disturbed, and shifted his mask back into place. "I will find a method of getting a message to you if I find them. Do not seek me again. This was dangerous and foolish."

And that was that. Lion-O stuck close to Keigo obediently and Snarf sat like a lump in Lion-O's arm, catching emotions as they flickered over both of the beings. Lion-O rippled with confusion and interest, holding the paw with trust. Snarf noted that no loneliness tinged his emotions.

Keigo was rolling with nerves and a lesser degree of pity and sorrow. It was scary for him to be out, even hidden in the fur and the smell of garbage. And he knew what had most likely happened.

Snarf suddenly felt very alone and found that the sensation made his tummy hurt very badly. _Mama…_

"We'll find your family Snarf," Lion-O said. "Maybe your mommy's looking for you right now."

Snarf swallowed. "Yeah. Maybe."

_I can't…tell him. It would break his heart. And she _might_ be okay. And my brother and sisters…they might out there still._

But his heart still ached and his eyes were hot and blurry. Lion-O must have spotted his face for he cuddled him close. "Don't be sad, Snarf. We won't give up. I'll figure out something." Warm kitten fur brushed Snarf's ear and he realized Lion-O had kissed his forehead.

Weird. But strangely sweet. Keigo watched the motion before tugging them across the road.

Once more, Snarf could not pay much attention when Keigo drew near the market where the lantern and entry was. He simply held on to Lion-O's cloak and gazed senselessly after the komodo as he vanished back into the city and people, hunched and smelling like old cat and salt. "Snarf? Where'd you pee at?"

He sniffed. "Over there," he said, gesturing with his tail. Lion-O found the lantern and Snarf disinterestedly noticed that as evening had come, people were slowly vanishing from the streets, heading in to their homes to their children and dads and ma-

He whimpered. Lion-O had paused to mark to pull out his map and mark it, and when he put it back in, he wrapped Snarf more firmly in his arms. "Snarf…please don't be sad. I'll help you find them. I really will. We're not giving up! And Keigo said he'd keep an eye out, he _said_."

Snarf's breath was heavy. "Lion-O, Keigo seems nice. But he's one lizard hiding in a dark, stinky building that you've talked to twice. I don't think we can count on him to help. And anyway…I just feel yucky. All sick inside."

"Oh. Have you got a tummy ache? Jaga gives me medicine when my tummy hurts. I'll try to find some. And I'll sneak you some extra fish at dinner, okay?"

Food. The idea made him droop further. "Thanks. That's nice of you." If he could force himself to eat he would be doing well. Lion-O shed his cloak for an instant so Snarf could reach the lantern to turn it in the low light of the evening. The passage slid open and they ducked inside, sealing the way and blinking in the dark.

The trek back was cool and quiet. Snarf just didn't know what to do, aching as he was. He tried to count how many steps it took to get back.

He was somewhere around eight hundred thirty-two when he was again nudged and he had to climb to the brazier to open and then close the door. The musty, familiar smell of the archives hit him and his eyelids lowered.

_I just wanna sleep. I don't even wanna do anything else. I'm sorry, Mama…if you hadn't come looking…no, no, she might be alive…but I'm still so sorry. If I hadn't gotten in the cart, if I hadn't been taken away…maybe…_

There was a rush of noise and Snarf lifted his head from Lion-O's chest. Murmurings and chatter bubbled in the normally quiet sanctuary, and he blinked; perhaps Lion-O had been wrong. Had they noticed his absence and panicked?

No. As Lion-O stepped cautiously away from the wall and toward the exit, a couple of clerics offered him hurried nods as they brushed past him. Lion-O stared after the pair and Snarf smelled fear and anger washing over them. But they had shown no more interest in Lion-O than they usually did.

So what was up? Could Snarf bring himself to care?

In fact, the two guards that had been positioned outside hours ago to watch after Lion-O were no longer there. A new one was there, looking around nervously at everyone and seemed relieved to finally spot the red mane, heading towards them as another gaggle of clerics darted toward the exit.

"What's happening? What's wrong?" Lion-O tugged at the robe of a passing cleric but they ignored him, heading out toward the sanctuary and then the courtyard. "Why is everybody so upset?" he asked more loudly, clutching at Snarf.

"Your Highness! Come, we are to report to our captain. I will take you to your room, the sentries posted there will guard you." The guard that had been nice enough to speak to him took him by the wrist and began tugging him out through the training room. Lion-O nearly tripped several times, legs too short to keep up with the quick pace, and Snarf held on to his head, now perched on one shoulder.

"What's going on?" Lion-O demanded. The guard bothered to glance down at him. The smell of grass and the sight of the courtyard greeted them as the doors swung open.

"There has been a…a body found. In the city. We have no suspects yet again." Lion-O's grew round and Snarf just shut his eyes. Any other time this would have frightened him. But in light of everything that had happened and what he'd learned…well, Snarf just couldn't bring himself to give a whisker.

He was tired. So tired. He just wanted to sleep and not think. But that dumb guard was still talking as they rushed over the stone path and into the doorway of the palace, air cooling as they passed the stone.

"It is too barbaric to tell a cub about. Such a horrendous thing that was done," the cat hissed, and Snarf felt the heat radiating off his body. Anger at injustice sizzled. Lion-O twisted his wrist in the sweaty grip and then gave up.

"What happened?"

The guard shook his head. "The cruelty of it all. Your Highness, I dare not say it."

Lion-O pulled at him. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me. Why's everybody going crazy?" The guard paused; apparently physically dragging the heir around did not appeal to him. Snarf sighed into Lion-O's mane, wishing the world would just be quiet and he could…well, could he sleep? With the strange, heavy ache in his heart where Mama was supposed to be?

A familiar cat rounded the corner and marched toward them, stark against the stone. It was that captain that Jaga had "advised"; Snarf dully sniffed him and decided he didn't like the man. He had dark eyes and a hardness to his jaw, fur sable and black all over. Even his face was dark brown, not a hint of paler fur anywhere. It made his eyes glint, and his polished armor gleam.

"Sir! I was taking the prince to his quarters." The guard hesitated under the lofty gaze.

"I will escort him there. You are needed in the briefing chamber, number three. Prepare the men; I won't be long." Lion-O rubbed at his wrist when the guard released it only to bite his lip when the captain's fist curled harshly around it, leading him as the guard hurried away.

Snarf eyed the captain balefully. This close the odor of dust and decay was strong. Something hateful and poisonous brewed in this man, and Snarf wished he would just leave. And he was hurting Lion-O's arm, though the cub said nothing about it.

It would never cease to amaze Snarf how much everyone ignored this kid. If he'd been in the mood he'd have hiked a leg at the guy.

"What's going on? What's so weird about the body you found?" he asked at last, toes barely hitting the ground as the captain led him on.

"It's not for cubs." Lion-O's expression darkened and he tried to pull free. The cat stopped, armor clinking.

"Captain Saevus," he said loudly, and Snarf jolted; Lion-O knew his name? "I would like to know what is going on. Why are the people so scared?" It almost sounded like a command, chirping and high.

Looking down his nose, Saevus narrowed his eyes and almost seemed to smile, sharp teeth winking. He continued onward, pulling Lion-O again. "Very well, Your Majesty. The body found was missing its skin. Some foul beast had removed its fur and left the body."

Snarf was suddenly wide, wide awake. Lion-O did not fight the pull any longer, eyes huge. "…They took his skin?"

"Indeed. My men have found traces of exotic venom in the poor creature's stomach. It seems he was poisoned and when he died, his skin was removed and the body abandoned. Probably a fear tactic on the part of the murderer."

Snarf's heart was moving so, so fast. The quiet fear in Lion-O's eyes made his stomach hurt and his tongue dry.

'_Poison?' And…'skin?'_

The smell of salted fur and a grizzled mask swam uneasily before him and he gripped pawfuls of Lion-O's mane to stay stable.

Captain Saevus said nothing more before depositing Lion-O before the sentries flanking his door. "See to it that he is in the dining hall in half an hour. And send for a maid." The aquiline nose curled in distaste. "You smell rather…interesting."

"I was in the archives. They're dusty." Lion-O nursed his sore arm and Snarf felt a tremor rocking him.

Saevus' men saluted their captain and Lion-O passed them by and shut the door, letting Snarf hop down onto the floor. His clean clothes – the ones he had to change into after playing – lay neatly on his bed and he stared at them for a minute.

Snarf tried to open his mouth properly. "…What do you think?"

Lion-O tilted his chin to look out the window. The curtains were cool and blue, swathing the city with a beautiful sheen. The sun was setting and it all looked perfect. "…He said he found the skin in the desert." But Lion-O sounded uncertain.

And Snarf could not help but think of how easily Keigo had scooped up the rat and swallowed it down.

Maybe his Snarf instincts _were_ wrong. Maybe…maybe they had only just escaped with their lives.

"Your Highness, we've a basin of water. Captain Saevus insisted you wash off. Your father will not be pleased if you smell of dirt and dust." One of the familiar maids – a woman with a softly round frame and a no-nonsense set to her mouth – scuttled in and set down the bucket. "Come now, off with that dirty tunic. And that creature needs a bath too. Honestly, the mess you make…"

Even the displeasure of being dunked in warm, sudsy water after Lion-O and being scrubbed hard did not distract Snarf from the two blazing parts of his mind.

Mama was in one part and Keigo was in the other, and both seemed to be bathed in blood.

* * *

1 – I think it seems plausible that there were more secret passages in the palace than just the one Jaga used to get them out in episode two. And who better to find them than a four-year-old with a penchant for secrets and adventure?

2 – I always thought that as a child pretending to adventure in my backyard. I think I packed little snacks and pretended to run away with a scarf tied to stick I would carry, like any cartoon character used to.


End file.
